POEMS 


All  the  unsigned  footnotes  in  this  volume  are  by  the 
writer  of  the  article  to  which  they  are  appended.  The  in- 
terpretation of  the  initials  signed  to  the  others  is:  I.  G. 
=  Israel  Gollancz,  M.A. ;  H.  N.  H.=  Henry  Norman 
Hudson,  A.M. ;  C.  H.  H.=  C.  H.  Herford,  Litt.D. 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

VENUS  AND  ADONIS 1 

THE  PASSIONATE  PILGRIM     ..........     71 

THE  RAPE  OF  LUCRECE  .      .      .      .  .  .      .   101 

A  LOVER'S  COMPLAINT     ......     ,.,     „.     ,.      .      .187 

THE  PH<ENIX  AND  THE  TURTLE       .,     ».     ,.     ,.,     .      .      .   205 


VENUS  AND  ADONIS 

Villa  miretur  vulgus ;  mihi  flavus  Apollo 
Pocula  Castalia  plena  ministret  aqua. 


To  the 
RIGHT  HONORABLE  HENRIE  WRIOTHESLEY, 

Earle  of  Southampton,  and  Baron  of  Titchfield. 

RIGHT  HONOURABLE, 

1KNOW  not  how  I  shall  offend  in  dedicating  my 
vnpolisht  lines  to  your  Lordship,  nor  how  the 
worlde  will  censure  me  for  choosing  so  strong  a 
proppe  to  support  so  weake  a  burthen,  onely  if 
your  Honour  seeme  but  pleased,  I  account  my  selfe 
highly  praised,  and  vowe  to  take  aduantage  of  all 
idle  houres,  till  I  haue  honoured  you  with  some 
grauer  labour.  But  if  the  first  heire  of  my  inuen- 
tion  proue  deformed,  I  shall  be  sorry  it  had  so  noble 
a  god-father:  and  neuer  after  eare  so  barren  a  land, 
for  fear  it  yeeld  me  still  so  bad  a  haruest,  I  leaue  it 
to  your  Honourable  suruey,  and  your  Honor  to 
your  hearts  content  which  I  wish  may  alwaies  anr- 
swere  your  owne  wish*,  and  the  worlds  hopefull  ex- 
pectation. 

Your  Honors  in  all  dutie, 

WILLIAM  SHAKESPEARE. 


10  J 


PREFACE 

By  ISRAEL  GOI/LANCZ,  M.A. 

EARLY    EDITIONS 

Venus  and  Adonis  was  first  printed  in  Quarto,  in  1593, 
with  the  following  title-page: — 

VENVS 
AND  ADONIS 

Villa  miretur  vulgus;  mihi  ftauus  Apollo 
Poctda  Castalia  plena  ministret  aqua 


PRINTER'S 

DEVICE  : — 
An     anchor     with 

the  motto 
"Anchora   spei" 


LONDON: 

Imprinted  by  Richard  Field,  and  are  to  be  sold  at 

the  signe  of  the  White  Greyhound  in 

Paules  Churchyard. 

1593. 

The  text  of  Venus  and  Adonis  is  remarkable  for  its  ac- 
curacy, and  there  can  be  little  doubt  that  the  poet  him- 
self superintended  the  printing  of  the  poem,  and  was  re- 
sponsible for  the  wording  of  the  title-page.  A  significant 
fact  is  Shakespeare's  choice  of  the  printer:  Richard  Field 

5 


Venus  and  Adonis  POEMS 

was  the  son  of  Henry  Field,  a  tanner  of  Stratford-on- 
Avon;  he  was  apprenticed  to  a  printer  in  London  in  the 
year  1579,  and  took  up  his  freedom  in  1587.  Among  his 
earliest  enterprises  was  a  beautiful  edition  of  Ovid's 
Metamorphoses,  1589.  In  1592  Shakespeare's  father,  at 
Stratford,  was  engaged  in  appraising  Henry  Field's 
goods ;  in  1593,  in  Lon'don,  Richard  Field  was  engaged  in 
printing  William  Shakespeare's  first  poem:  the  copyright 
was  registered  by  the  printer,  for  himself,  on  April  18. 
The  publisher  of  the  first  three  editions  was  Field's  friend, 
John  Harrison.  The  popularity  of  the  poem  is  attested 
by  the  issue  of  no  less  than  twelve  subsequent  editions  be- 
tween 1593  and  1636 ; l  of  some  of  these  editions  only  sin- 
gle copies  have  come  down  to  us,  and  it  is  probable  that 
some  editions  have  been  thumbed  out  of  existence.  The 
famous  Isham  unique  copy  of  the  1599  issue  was  by  mere 
chance  discovered  in  1867 ; 2  similarly,  evidence  may  be 
found  of  other  editions,  more  especially  between  the  years 
1596  and  1599,  1602  and  1627. 

DATE    OF    COMPOSITION 

Shakespeare,  in  his  Dedication  to  the  Earl  of  South- 
ampton,3 describes  the  poem  of  Venus  and  Adonis  as  "the 
first  heir  of  my  invention" ;  some  critics,  taking  these  words 

11594;  1596;  1599;  (?)  1600;  1602  (British  Museum);  1602  (Bod- 
leian); 1617;  1620;  1627;  1630;  (?)  1630;  1636. 

2  Cp.  Charles  Edmond's  reprint  of  his  precious  "find,"  1870.  A 
facsimile  of  the  First  Edition  is  among  Dr.  Furnivall's  Quarto  Fac- 
similes (No.  12). 

s  The  Earl  of  Southampton  was  at  this  time  about  twenty ;  he  was 
born  October  6,  1573;  his  father  died  in  1581;  at  the  age  of  twelve 
he  entered  St.  John's  College,  Cambridge.  Entered  at  Gray's  Inn, 
London,  1589.  He  rose  in  the  Queen's  favor,  but  his  love  for  Eliza- 
beth Vernon  (Essex's  cousin)  lost  him  the  queen's  interest,  in  1595. 
He  married  Elizabeth  Vernon  in  1598.  (A  full  biography  is  given 
in  Massey's  Shakespeare's  Sonnets.) 

Chettle  was  probably  alluding  to  Southampton  when,  in  his  Kind 
Heart's  Dream  (1592)  he  refers  "to  divers  of  worship"  who  report 
Shakespeare's  "uprightness  of  dealing,"  and  his  "facetious  grace  in 
writing." 


POEMS  Venus  and  Adonis 

in  their  absolutely  literal  sense,  refer  the  composition  of 
the  piece  to  the  poet's  younger  days  at  Stratford-on- 
Avon,  but  there  is  little  to  be  adduced  in  favor  of  this 
view,  and  there  is  no  need  to  strain  the  words  to  bear  this 
meaning.  By  the  term  "invention"  Shakespeare  probably 
implied  lyrical  or  epic  poetry,  as  opposed  to  dramatic 
writings ;  and  with  reference  to  the  latter  it  must  be  re- 
membered that  no  Shakespearean  play  had  as  yet  been 
printed.1 

Venus  and  Adonis  must  be  taken  in  close  connection  with 
such  poems  as  Lodge's  Glaucus  and  Scilla,  and  Marlowe's 
Hero  and  Leander;  to  the  former  of  these  small  "classical 
epics"  (1589)  Shakespeare's  poem  seems  to  have  been  in- 
debted for  its  versification,  as  perhaps  also  for  much  of  its 
characteristic  tone  and  diction.2  Marlowe's  poem,  left  un- 
finished at  its  author's  death  on  June  1,  1593,  has  certain 
points  in  common  with  Shakespeare's,  but  it  is  difficult  to 
determine  the  question  of  priority.  The  famous  quotation 
from  Hero  and  Leander  in  As  You  Like  it  was  made  after 

1  Shakespeare's  "affectionate  love  of  nature  and  natural  objects,'* 
his  many  vivid  pictures  of  country  life,  as  evidenced  in  Venus  and 
Adonis,  are  dwelt  upon  by  those  in  favor  of  assigning  an  earlier  date 
to  the  poem;  they  point  specially  to  the  famous  hunted  hare;  the 
eagle  turning  on  her  prey;  the  description  of  the  horse;  the  signs  of 
weather,  and  the  closing  in  of  the  day,  etc.     It  must  be  borne  in 
mind  that  the  theme  of  the  poem  lent  itself  to  the  introduction  of 
these  rural  reminiscences,  which  throughout  Shakespeare's  career,  and 
more  especially  in  his  early  plays,  exercised  their  attraction;  many 
links  might  be  pointed  out  connecting  Venus  a.nd  Adonis  and  Mid- 
summer Night's  Dream. 

2  The  following  is  a  typical  example  of  Lodge's  verse: — 

"He  that  hath  seen  the  sweet  Arcadian  boy 
Wiping  the  purple  from  his  forced  wound, 
His  pretty  tears  betokening  his  annoy, 
His  sighs,  his  cries,  his  falling  on  the  ground, 
The  echoes  ringing  from  the  rocks  his  fall, 
The  trees  with  tears  reporting  of  his  thrall,"  etc. 
An  interesting  problem  is  whether  Shakespeare  at  first  attempted  a 
sonnet-sequence  on  the  subject,  and  subsequently  rejected  that  form 
in  favor  of  the  less  monumental  six-line  stanza  (vide  Passionate  Pil- 
grim, iv.  v.  ix.). 

7 


Venus  and  Adonis  POEMS 

the  posthumous  publication  of  the  poem  in  1598,  and  there 
is  no  direct  evidence  of  Shakespeare's  knowledge  of  Mar- 
lowe's work  before  that  date.  Marlowe's  " rose-cheek' d 
Adonis"  was  perhaps  therefore  a  reminiscence  of  the  open- 
ing lines  of  Shakespeare's  poem,  and  the  debt  was  not  the 
other  way,  as  has  been  suggested.  There  can  be  no  ques- 
tion that  the  two  poems  belonged  to  the  same  time. 

It  is  noteworthy  that  1593  was  a  year  of  plague,  and 
London  was  so  sorely  stricken  that  all  theatrical  perform- 
ances were  forbidden ;  this  meant  leisure  for  Shakespeare. 
The  companies  went  on  tour  in  the  course  of  the  year; 
whether  Shakespeare  was  one  of  the  traveling  actors  is  not 
known. 

EARLY    REFERENCES    TO    "VENUS    AND    ADONIS9* 

The  earliest  references  to  "the  first  heir"  of  Shake- 
speare's "invention"  belong  to  1598,  when  Richard  Barn- 
field  in  his  "Remembrance  of  some  English  Poets,"  cele- 
brates Shakespeare's  "honey-flowing  vein" : — 

"Whose  'Venus'  and  whose  'Lucrece,'  sweet  and  chaste. 
Thy  name  in  fame's  immortal  bo6k  have  plac't"; 

in  the  same  year  Francis  Meres  published  his  famous 
"Comparative  Discourse  of  our  English  Poets  with  the 
Greek,  Latin,  and  Italian  Poets";  "as  the  soul  of  Euphor- 
bus,"  he  observed,  "was  thought  to  live  in  Pythagoras,  so 
the  sweet  witty  soul  of  Ovid  lives  in  mellifluous  and  honey- 
ton  gued  Shakespeare;  witness  his  Venus  and  Adonis,  his 
Lucrece,  his  sugar'd  Sonnets  among  his  private  friends," 
etc.  Again,  in  1599,  in  John  Weever's  verses  "Ad  Guliel- 
mum  Shakespeare"  the  same  epithet,  "honey-tongued,"  is 
repeated : — 

"Honie-tongued  Shakespeare,  when  I  saw  thine  issue, 
I  swore  Apollo  got  them  and  none  other, 
Their  rosie-tainted  features  cloth'd  in  tissue, 
Some  heaven-born  goddess  said  to  be  their  mother; 
Rose-cheek'd  Adonis   with  his  amber  tresses, 
Faire  fire-hot  Venus  charming  him  to  love  her; 
8 


POEMS  Venus  and  Adonis 

Chaste  Lucretia,  virgin-like  her  dresses, 

Proud  lust-stung  Tarquin  seeking  still  to  prove  her,"  etc. 

Perhaps  the  most  interesting  of  the  early  allusions  to 
Venus  and  Adonis  are  to  be  found  in  the  Cambridge  play, 
The  Return  from  Parnassus  (the  second  of  the  three  Par- 
nassus plays),  acted  at  St.  John's  College  in  1599,  where 
Gullio's  preference  for  "Mr.  Shakespeare's  vein"  l  finds 
exuberant  expression : — "O  sweet  Mr.  Shakespeare !  I  '11 

have  his  picture  in  my  study  at  the  court." "Let 

this  duncified  world  esteem  of  Spenser  and  Chaucer,  I  '11 
worship  sweet  Mr.  Shakespeare,  and  to  honor  him,  will  lay 
his  Venus  and  Adonis  under  my  pillow,  as  we  read  of  one 
(I  do  not  well  remember  his  name,  but  I  am  sure  he  was  a 
king),  slept  with  Homer  under  his  bed's  head."  The 
amorous  Gullio  was,  however,  not  a  typical  representative 
of  the  University ;  a  year  or  two  later,  in  the  third  part  of 
the  Parnassus  Plays,  a  more  judicial  utterance  is  delivered 
by  "  Judicio" :—  " 

"Who  loves  not  Aden's  love,  or  Lucrece  rape? 
His  sweeter  verse  contains  heart-throbbing  life. 
Could  but  a  graver  subject  him  content, 
Without  love's  foolish  lazy  languishment." 

The  writer  of  the  lines  was  not  ignorant  of  "graver  sub- 
jects" which  had  already  contented  the  author  of  "Aden's 
love" ;  but  these  belonged  to  the  department  of  drama,  and 
were  not  to  be  classed  with  poetry.  Not  long  after,  a 
more  experienced  scholar  than  the  author  of  the  plays,  the 
much-abused  Gabriel  Harvey,  Spenser's  "Hobbinol,"  wrote 
on  the  fly-leaf  of  a  Chaucer  folio : — "The  younger  sort 
take  much  delight  in  Shakespeare's  Venus  and  Adonis;  but 
his  Lucrece,  and  his  Tragedy  of  Hamlet,  Prince  of  Den- 
mark, have  it  in  them  to  please  the  wiser  sort."  One  thing 
is  quite  certain,  to  wit,  that  Shakespeare's  first  published 
venture  brought  him  no  little  contemporary  fame.2 

1  Similarly,   in   Heywood's  "Fair  Maid  of  the  Exchange"    (1607), 
the  lover  Bowdler  "never  read  anything  but  Venus  and  Adonis,  and 
quotes  passages,  and  proposes  to  imitate  Venus  in  his  wooing. 

2  In  1598,  John  Marston,  the  satirist,  published,  as  "The  first  bloome 

9 


Venus  and  Adonis  POEMS 


THE    SOURCE    OF    THE    PLOT 

Ovid's  Metamorphoses,  Bk.  x,  was  certainly  the  direct 
source  of  Shakespeare's  Venus  and  Adonis,  though  the 
story  must  have  been  familiar  to  the  poet  in  various  forms : 
whether  he  read  Ovid  in  the  original,  or  contented  him- 
self with  Golding's  translation  (1567)  cannot  be  definitely 
determined;  Prospero's  abjuration  {Tempest,  Act  IV,  sc. 
i)  shows  his  indebtedness  to  the  translator,  but  this  does 
not  prove  that  his  Latin  was  too  little  to  enable  him  to 
follow  the  story  as  printed  in  Field's  dainty  edition  of  the 
Metamorphoses,  or  in  any  other  edition.1  Anyhow,  his 
plot  departs  from  Ovid's  in  many  details.  Shakespeare 
may  have  read  Constable's  Shepherd's  Song  of  Venus  and 
Adonis,  which,  though  first  published  in  England's  Helicon 
(1600),  had  perhaps  previously  circulated  in  manuscripts, 
but  the  question  of  date  is  of  no  importance :  Shakespeare's 
debt  to  Constable  must  have  been  very  slight. 

Bion's  tender  elegy,  and  the  idylls  of  Theocritus  and 
other  poets  of  the  Greek  Anthology  were  evidently  quite 
unknown  to  Shakespeare.  His  "Adonis"  does  not  return 
from  Hades.  Folk-lorists  can  find  in  the  poem  only  the 
Death,  not  the  Resurrection  of  Vegetation, — only  one  part 
of  that  widespread  nature-myth  and  nature-worship  which 
passed,  with  much  of  its  accompanying  ritual,  from  the 

of  my  poesie,"  an  imitation  of  Venus  and  Adonis,  under  the  title  of 
"The  Metamorphosis  of  Pigmalion's  Image";  in  his  "Scourge  of 
Villainy"  (Sat.  vi.),  Marston  pretended  that  the  poem  was  a  satire 
on  that  kind  of  poetry;  in  1599  it  was  ordered  to  be  burned.  In 
Cranley's  Amanda  (1635)  it  is  mentioned  together  with  Venus  and 
Adonis,  and  Hero  and  Leander,  as  part  of  a  courtezan's  library. 
Shakespeare's  allusion  to  "Pygmalion's  images"  in  Measure  for 
Measure,  should  be  noted.  William  Barksted's  Mirrha,  the  mother 
of  Adonis,  or  Lustfs  Prodigies,  ends  with  an  enthusiastic  tribute  to 
Venus  and  Adonis  and  its  author. 

i  Cp.  Prof.  Baynes'  articles  in  Fraser's  Magazine,  vol.  xxi.  pp.  83- 
102;  619-641. 

In  the  Bodleian  there  is  an  edition  of  Ovid  which  may  possibly  be 
Shakespeare's  own  copy  (vide  account  of  the  book,  with  facsimile 
page,  in  the  German  Shakespeare  Society's  Transactions). 

10 


POEMS  Venus  and  Adorn? 

East  to  Western  Europe,  captivating  the  minds  of  the 
masses,  and  inspiring  the  minds  of  the  poets.  Venus 
mourning  for  Adonis,  Isis  for  Osiris,  Astarte  for  Tham- 
muz,  are  but  variants  of  the  same  theme.  It  is  not  unhelp- 
ful to  be  reminded  of  the  genesis  of  Shakespeare's  sensuous 
and  voluptuous  theme.1 

i  Spenser's  curious  reference  to  the  Gardens  of  Adonis  should  be 
noted  (Faerie  Queene,  Book  III.  i.  34). 

The  Eastern  origin  of  the  myth  is  significantly  preserved  in  the 
name  of  the  hero:  "Adonis"— "A don,"  i.  e.  Lord;  again,  anemone  = 
"naaman"  "the  darling";  the  Arabs  call  the  anemone  the  "wounds  of 
the  Naaman."  According  to  Bion,  the  rose  sprung  from  the  blood 
of  Adonis,  the  anemone  from  his  tears. 

In  the  Greek  myth,  Aphrodite  has  taken  the  place  of  Astarte; 
probably  the  name  of  the  Greek  Venus  is  itself  a  modification  of 
some  Eastern  name. 

The  old  translators  of  the  Bible  identified  "Thammuz"  with 
"Adonis,"  in  Ezekiel  viii.  14,  where  the  English  Bible  translates  the 
Hebrew  correctly,  "And  behold  there  set  women  weeping  for  Tham- 
muz" the  Vulgate  renders,  "Et  ecce  ibi  mulieres  sedebant  plangentes 
Adonidem." 


11 


INTRODUCTION 

By  HENRY  NORMAN  HUDSON,  A.M. 

The  first  edition  of  Venus  and  Adonis  was  a  quarto 
pamphlet  of  twenty-seven  leaves,  the  latter  part  of  the 
title-page  reading  thus :  "London :  Imprinted  by  Richard 
Field,  and  are  to  be  sold  at  the  sign  of  the  white  Grey- 
hound in  Paul's  Church-yard.  1593."  On  April  18, 
1593,  the  poem  was  entered  at  the  Stationers'  by  Field,  as 
"his  copy,  licensed  by  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  and 
the  Wardens."  A  second  edition  was  made  by  the  same 
publisher  in  1594.  There  were  also  editions  of  it,  by  John 
Harrison  in  1596  and  1600,  and  by  William  Leake  in  1602. 
After  this  time  it  was  often  republished,  and  copies  are 
known,  bearing  the  dates  of  1616  and  1620.  It  was  also 
printed  at  Edinburgh  by  John  Wreittoun  in  1627. 

This  frequency  of  publication  sufficiently  witnesses  the 
great  popularity  of  the  poem.  It  is  often  alluded  to,  also, 
by  the  Poet's  contemporaries,  and  in  such  terms  as  show  it 
to  have  been  a  general  favorite.  Meres,  in  his  Wit's  Treas- 
ury, 1598,  speaks  of  it  thus :  "As  the  soul  of  Euphorbus 
was  thought  to  live  in  Pythagoras,  so  the  sweet,  witty  soul 
of  Ovid  lives  in  mellifluous  and  honey-tongued  Shake- 
speare: witness  his  Venus  and  Adonis,  his  Lucrece,  his 
sugar'd  Sonnets  among  his  private  friends."  What  use 
was  sometimes  made  of  it,  may  be  inferred  from  Sharpe's 
Noble  Stranger,  1640,  where  Pupillus  exclaims, — "O,  for 
the  book  of  Venus  and  Adonis,  to  court  my  mistress  by !" 

The  tenth  book  of  Ovid's  Metamorphoses,  as  translated 
by  Arthur  Golding,  probably  furnished  Shakespeare  the 
story  of  Venus  and  Adonis.  Golding's  translation  was 
first  published  complete  in  1567,  and  reissued  in  15729 

12 


POEMS  Yenus  and  Adonis 

1584,  1587,  and  1593;  so  that  it  must  have  had  a  large 
circulation  when  the  poem  was  written.  The  Poet  evi- 
dently worked  upon  the  plan  of  concentrating  all  the  inter- 
est on  the  passion  of  the  goddess,  and  took  only  so  much 
of  the  story  as  would  directly  serve  this  end.  His  treat- 
ment of  the  subject  is  eminently  original  and  inventive; 
his  genius  playing  with,  perhaps,  all  the  freedom  it  could 
find  out  of  the  drama,  where  alone  he  could  be  thoroughly 
at  home.  The  story  is  also  briefly  told  in  Spenser's  de- 
scription of  the  tapestry  of  Castle  Joyous,  and  in  The 
Shepherd's  Song  of  Venus  and  Adonis  9  by  Henry  Consta- 
ble, published  in  England's  Helicon,  1600.  But  Shake- 
speare's use  and  treatment  of  the  subject  are  altogether 
different  from  Spenser's.  Constable  was  not  known  as  a 
poet  till  1594,  when  his  Diana  was  published;  and,  as  The 
Shepherd's  Song  was  not  included  in  that  collection,  we 
may  presume  that  it  had  not  then  been  written. 

In  the  dedication  of  Venus  and  Adonis,  Shakespeare 
speaks  of  it  as  "the  first  heir  of  his  invention" ;  yet  he 
had  then  become  so  distinguished  in  the  drama  as  to  be 
squibbed  by  Robert  Greene,  and  patronized  by  the  Earl  of 
Southampton.  Whether  Shakespeare  dated  the  heirship 
of  his  poem  from  the  time  of  writing  or  of  publishing,  is 
uncertain:  probably  the  former;  and  if  so,  then  of  course 
it  must  have  been  written  several  years  before  1593.  The 
general  opinion  refers  the  composition  of  the  poem  to  the 
period  before  he  left  Stratford;  but  this  is  a  point  on 
which  we  are  without  evidence  of  any  sort  either  way. 

The  merit  of  Venus  and  Adonis  9  and  indeed  of  the  au- 
thor's poems  generally,  sinks  into  littleness  beside  that  of 
his  dramas.  We  have  already  seen  how  great  was  its  con- 
temporary popularity.  This  excessive  applause  was  fol- 
lowed by  a  long  period  of  undue  neglect  or  depreciation ; 
but  in  later  times  the  fashion  has  rather  been  to  overpraise 
it.  Hazlitt,  who  wrote  at  the  time  when  "this  fashion  was 
at  its  height,  and  who  could  hardly  see  an  extravagance 
in  one  direction  without  becoming  equally  extravagant  in 
the  opposite,  delivers  himself  on  the  subject  as  follows: 

13 


Venus  and  Adonis  POEMS 

"In  his  plays,  Shakespeare  was  as  broad  and  casing  as  the 
general  air:  in  his  poems,  on  the  contrary,  he  appears  to 
be  coop'd  and  cabin'd  in  by  all  the  technicalities  of  art, 
by  all  the  petty  intricacies  of  thought  and  language  which 
poetry  had  learned  from  the  controversial  jargon  of  the 
schools,  where  words  had  been  made  a  substitute  for  things. 
His  imagination,  by  identifying  itself  with  the  strongest 
characters  in  the  most  trying  circumstances,  grappled  at 
once  with  nature,  and  trampled  the  littleness  of  art  under 
its  feet:  the  rapid  changes  of  situation,  the  wide  range  of 
the  universe,  gave  him  life  and  spirit,  and  afforded  full 
scope  to  his  genius ;  but,  returned  into  his  closet  again, 
and  having  assumed  the  badge  of  his  profession,  he  could 
only  labor  in  his  vocation,  and  conform  himself  to  existing 
models." 

In  this  extract,  the  writer,  as  usual,  has  a  knack  of  sug- 
gesting the  truth  while  departing  from  it.  Hazlitt  is  com- 
paring the  poems,  not  with  the  dramas  written  at  or  near 
the  same  time,  but  with  those  of  a  much  later  date,  when 
the  Poet,  after  working  by  "existing  models,"  had  con- 
structed an  art  of  his  own.  In  his  poems  Shakespeare  does 
indeed  impress  us  rather  as  proceeding  by  rule  and  imita- 
tion, than  by  the  free  inspiration  of  genius  and  nature: 
he  is  not  himself,  but  rather  what  others  had  been  before 
him.  He  had  not  then  found  himself,  and  perhaps  it  was 
only  by  working  awhile  as  others  had  done,  that  he  could 
find  himself.  The  inferiority,  then,  of  the  poems  grew  not 
so  much  from  the  conditions  of  the  work,  as  from  the  state 
of  his  own  mind :  it  was  not  merely  because  they  were  not 
dramas,  but  partly  because  his  genius  was  not  then  ma- 
ture, that  they  fall  below  the  measure  of  his  powers. 

But,  much  as  the  poems  carry  the  air  of  imitations,  they 
show,  withal,  that  he  could  not  imitate  without  surpassing 
his  models.  Venus  and  Adonis  abounds  in  verbal  and  fan- 
tastical tricks  and  antics  caught  from  the  taste  and  fash- 
ion of  the  age:  often  it  may  be  said  of  the  Poet,  that  he 
appears  "singling  out  the  difficulties  of  the  art,  to  make  an 
exhibition  of  his  strength  and  skill  in  wrestling  with  them." 

14 


POEMS  Venus  and  Adonis 

But  what  fulness  of  life  and  spirit  there  is  in  it !  what  rich- 
ness and  delicacy  of  imagery !  what  fresh,  and  airy,  and 
subtle  turns  of  invention  and  combination !  Coleridge,  in 
his  Biographia  Literaria,  has  the  following  remarks  upon 
it: 

"In  the  Venus  and  Adonis,  the  first  and  most  obvious  ex- 
cellence is  the  perfect  sweetness  of  the  versification;  its 
adaptation  to  the  subject;  and  the  power  displayed  in 
varying  the  march  of  the  words  without  passing  into  a 
loftier  and  more  majestic  rhythm  than  was  demanded  by 
the  thoughts,  or  permitted  by  the  propriety  of  preserving 
a  sense  of  melody  predominant.  The  delight  in  richness 
and  sweetness  of  sound,  even  to  a  faulty  excess,  if  it  be 
evidently  original,  and  not  the  result  of  an  easily  imitable 
mechanism,  I  regard  as  a  highly  favorable  promise  in  the 
compositions  of  a  young  man.  'The  man  that  hath  not 
music  in  his  soul'  can  indeed  never  be  a  genuine  poet. 
Imagery;  affecting  incidents;  just  thoughts;  interesting 
personal  or  domestic  feelings;  and  with  these  the  art  of 
their  combination  or  intertexture  in  the  form  of  a  poem; 
may  all,  by  incessant  effort,  be  acquired  as  a  trade,  by  a 
man  of  talents  and  much  reading,  who  has  mistaken  an  in- 
tense desire  of  poetic  reputation  for  a  natural  poetic 
genius.  But  the  sense  of  musical  delight,  with  the  power 
of  producing  it,  is  a  gift  of  imagination ;  and  this,  to- 
gether with  the  power  of  reducing  multitude  into  unity 
of  effect,  and  modifying  a  series  of  thoughts  by  some  one 
predominant  thought  or  feeling,  may  be  cultivated  and  im- 
proved, but  can  never  be  learned.  It  is  in  this  sense  that 
Poeta  nascitur,  non  fit. 

"A  second  promise  of  genius  is  the  choice  of  subjects 
very  remote  from  the  private  interests  and  circumstances 
of  the  writer  himself.  At  least  I  have  found,  that  where 
the  subject  is  taken  immediately  from  'the  author's  per- 
sonal sensations  and  experiences,  the  excellence  of  a  par- 
ticular poem  is  but  an  equivocal  mark,  and  often  a  falla- 
cious pledge,  of  genuine  poetic  power.  In  the  Venus  and 
Adonis,  this  proof  of  poetic  power  exists  even  to  excess. 

15 


Venus  and  Adonis  POEMS 

It  is  throughout  as  if  a  superior  spirit,  more  intuitive, 
more  intimately  conscious,  even  than  the  characters  them- 
selves, not  only  of  every  outward  look  and  act,  but  of  the 
flux  and  reflux  of  the  mind  in  all  its  subtlest  thoughts  and 
feelings,  were  placing  the  whole  before  our  view ;  himself, 
meanwhile,  unparticipating  in  the  passions,  and  actuated 
only  by  that  pleasurable  excitement,  which  had  resulted 
from  the  energetic  fervor  of  his  own  spirit,  in  so  vividly 
exhibiting  what  it  had  so  accurately  and  profoundly  con- 
templated. I  think  I  should  have  conjectured,  that  even 
the  great  instinct  which  impelled  the  Poet  to  the  drama 
was  secretly  working  in  him,  prompting  him  by  a  series 
and  never-broken  chain  of  imagery,  always  vivid,  and,  be- 
cause unbroken,  often  minute ;  by  the  highest  effort  of  the 
picturesque  in  words,  of  which  words  are  capable,  higher 
perhaps  than  was  ever  realized  by  any  other  poet,  even 
Dante  not  excepted ;  to  provide  a  substitute  for  that  visual 
language,  that  constant  intervention  and  running  com- 
ment, by  tone,  look,  and  gesture,  which  in  his  dramatic 
works  he  was  entitled  to  expect  from  the  players.  His 
Venus  and  Adonis  seem  at  once  the  characters  themselves, 
and  the  whole  representation  of  those  characters  by  con- 
summate actors.  You  seem  to  be  told  nothing,  but  to  see 
and  hear  everything. 

"Hence  it  is,  that  from  the  perpetual  activity  of  atten- 
tion required  on  the  part  of  the  reader;  from  the  rapid 
flow,  the  quick  change,  and  the  playful  nature  of  the 
thoughts  and  images ;  and,  above  all,  from  the  alienation, 
and,  if  I  may  hazard  such  an  expression,  the  utter  aloof- 
ness of  the  Poet's  own  feelings,  from  those  of  which  he 
is  at  once  the  painter  and  the  analyst;  that  though  the 
very  subject  cannot  but  detract  from  the  pleasure  of  a 
delicate  mind,  yet  never  was  poem  less  dangerous  on  a 
moral  account.  Instead  of  doing  as  Ariosto,  and  as,  still 
more  offensively,  Wieland  has  done;  instead  of  degrad- 
ing and  deforming  passion  into  appetite,  the  trials  of  love 
into  the  struggles  of  concupiscence,  Shakespeare  has  here 
represented  the  animal  impulse  itself  so  as  to  preclude  all 

36 


POEMS  Venus  and  Adonis 

sympathy  with  it,  by  dissipating  the  reader's  notice  among 
the  thousand  outward  images,  and  now  beautiful,  now  fan- 
ciful circumstances,  which  forms  its  dresses  and  scenery; 
or  by  diverting  our  attention  from  the  main  subject  by 
those  frequent  witty  or  profound  reflections,  which  the 
Poet's  ever-active  mind  has  deduced  from,  or  connected 
with,  the  imagery  and  the  incidents.  The  reader  is  forced 
into  too  much  action  to  sympathize  with  the  merely  passive 
of  our  nature.  As  little  can  a  mind  thus  roused  and  awak- 
ened be  brooded  on  by  mean  and  indistinct  emotion,  as  the 
low,  lazy  mist  can  creep  upon  the  surface  of  a  lake,  while 
a  strong  gale  is  driving  it  onward  in  waves  and  billows." 


XXXIX— 2 


VENUS  AND  ADONIS 

EYEN  as  the  sun  with  purple-color'd  face 
Had  ta'en  his  last  leave  of  the  weeping  morn, 
Rose-cheek'd  Adonis  hied  him  to  the  chase; 
Hunting  he  loved,  but  love  he  laugh'd  to  scorn: 
Sick-thoughted  Venus  makes  amain  unto  him, 
And  like  a  bold-faced  suitor  'gins  to  woo  him. 

'Thrice  fairer  than  myself/  thus  she  began, 
'The  field's  chief  flower,  sweet  above  compare, 
Stain  to  all  nymphs,  more  lovely  than  a  man, 
More  white  and  red  than  doves  or  roses  are;         10 
Nature  that  made  thee,  with  herself  at  strife, 
Saith  that  the  world  hath  ending  with  thy  life. 

'Vouchsaf e,  thou  wonder,  to  alight  thy  steed, 
And  rein  his  proud  head  to  the  saddle-bow; 
If  thou  wilt  deign  this  favor,  for  thy  meed 
A  thousand  honey  secrets  shalt  thou  know: 

Here  come  and  sit,  where  never  serpent  hisses, 
And  being  set,  I  '11  smother  thee  with  kisses; 

3.  "Adonis"  the  son  of  Myrrha,  and  favorite  of  Aphrodite,  was 
consigned  to  the  care  of  Persephone,  queen  of  the  underworld,  who 
refused  to  give  him  up  to  Aphrodite.  Zeus,  on  appeal  being  made 
to  him,  decided  that  Adonis  should  spend  four  months  of  each  year 
with  Persephone,  four  with  Aphrodite,  and  retain  four  for  his  own 
pleasure.  He  was  wounded  by  a  boar,  and  Aphrodite,  unable  to 
staunch  the  wound  and  save  his  life,  won  from  Zeus  the  promise  that 
Adonis  should  spend  six  months  of  each  year  with  her. — -C.  H.  H. 

19 


Venus  and  Adonis  POEMS 

'And  yet  not  cloy  thy  lips  with  loathed  satiety, 
But  rather  famish  them  amid  their  plenty,  20 

Making  them  red  and  pale  with  fresh  variety ; 
Ten  kisses  short  as  one,  one  long  as  twenty: 

A  summer's  day  will  seem  an  hour  but  short, 
Being  wasted  in  such  time-beguiling  sport/ 

With  this  she  seizeth  on  his  sweating  palm, 
The  precedent  of  pith  and  livelihood, 
And,  trembling  in  her  passion,  calls  it  balm, 
Earth's  sovereign  salve  to  do  a  goddess  good: 
Being  so  enraged,  desire  doth  lend  her  force 
Courageously  to  pluck  him  from  his  horse.  30 

Over  one  arm  the  lusty  courser's  rein, 

Under  her  other  was  the  tender  boy, 

Who  blush'd  and  pouted  in  a  dull  disdain, 

With  leaden  appetite,  unapt  to  toy ; 

She  red  and  hot  as  coals  of  glowing  fire, 
He  red  for  shame,  but  frosty  in  desire. 

The  studded  bridle  on  a  ragged  bough 
Nimbly  she  fastens — O,  how  quick  is  love! — 
The  steed  is  stalled  up,  and  even  now 
To  tie  the  rider  she  begins  to  prove:  40 

Backward  she  push'd  him,  as  she  would  be 

thrust, 

And  governed  him  in  strength,  though  not  in 
lust. 

So  soon  was  she  along  as  he  was  down, 
Each  leaning  on  their  elbows  and  their  hips: 

20 


POEMS  Venus  and  Adonis 

Now  doth  she  stroke  his  cheek,  now  doth  he  frown, 
And  'gins  to  chide,  but  soon  she  stops  his  lips ; 

And  kissing  speaks,  with  lustful  language 
broken, 

'If  thou  wilt  chide,  thy  lips  shall  never  open/ 

He  burns  with  bashful  shame;  she  with  her  tears 
Doth  quench  the  maiden  burning  of  his  cheeks ;  50 
Then  with  her  windy  sighs  and  golden  hairs 
To  fan  and  blow  them  dry  again  she  seeks : 

He  saith  she  is  immodest,  blames  her  miss; 

What  follows  more  she  murders  with  a  kiss. 

Even  as  an  empty  eagle,  sharp  by  fast, 
Tires  with  her  beak  on  feathers,  flesh  and  bone, 
Shaking  her  wings,  devouring  all  in  haste, 
Till  either  gorge  be  stuff'd  or  prey  be  gone ; 

Even  so  she  kiss'd  his  brow,  his  cheek,  his  chin, 
And  where  she  ends  she  doth  anew  begin.     60 

Forced  to  content,  but  never  to  obey, 
Panting  he  lies  and  breatheth  in  her  face ; 
She  f  eedeth  on  the  steam  as  on  a  prey, 
And  calls  it  heavenly  moisture,  air  of  grace ; 

Wishing  her  cheeks  were  gardens  full  of  flow- 
ers, 

So  they  were  dew'd  with  such  distilling  show- 
ers. 

53.  "miss"  was  not  unfrequently  used  as  a  substantive,  meaning, 
of  course,  something  done  amiss. — In  the  next  line,  the  first  three 
editions  have  murders;  later  editions,  smothers. — H.  N.  H. 

61.  "forced  to  content";  that  is,  compelled  to  acquiescence,  or  forced 
to  be  content.— H.  N.  H. 


Venus  and  Adonis  POEMS 

Look,  how  a  bird  lies  tangled  in  a  net, 

So  f asten'd  in  her  arms  Adonis  lies ; 

Pure  shame  and  awed  resistance  made  him  fret, 

Which  bred  more  beauty  in  his  angry  eyes :         70 
Rain  added  to  a  river  that  is  rank 
Perforce  will  force  it  overflow  the  bank. 


Still  she  entreats,  and  prettily  entreats, 

For  to  a  pretty  ear  she  tunes  her  tale ; 

Still  is  he  sullen,  still  he  lours  and  frets, 

'Twixt  crimson  shame,  and  anger  ashy-pale; 

Being  red,  she  loves  him  best;  and  being  white, 
Her  best  is  better'd  with  a,  more  delight. 


Look  how  he  can,  she  cannot  choose  but  love; 
And  by  her  fair  immortal  hand  she  swears,         80 
From  his  soft  bosom  never  to  remove, 
Till  he  take  truce  with  her  contending  tears, 

Which  long  have  rain'd,  making  her  cheeks  all 

wet; 

And  one  sweet  kiss  shall  pay  this  countless 
debt. 


Upon  this  promise  did  he  raise  his  chin, 
Like  a  dive-dapper  peering  through  a  wave, 
Who,  being  look'd  on,  ducks  as  quickly  in; 
So  offers  he  to  give  what  she  did  crave ; 

But  when  her  lips  were  ready  for  his  pay, 
He  winks,  and  turns  his  lips  another  way.  90 

22 


POEMS  Venus  and  Adonis 

Never  did  passenger  in  summer's  heat 
More  thirst  for  drink  than  she  for  this  good  turn. 
Her  help  she  sees,  but  help  she  cannot  get ; 
She  bathes  in  water,  yet  her  fire  must  burn : 

'O,  pity/  'gan  she  cry,  'flint-hearted  boy! 

'Tis  but  a  kiss  I  beg;  why  art  thou  coy? 


have  been  woo'd,  as  I  entreat  thee  now, 
Even  by  the  stern  and  direful  god  of  war, 
Whose  sinewy  neck  in  battle  ne'er  did  bow, 
iWho  conquers  where  he  comes  in  every  jar;         100 
Yet  hath  he  been  my  captive  and  my  slave, 
And  begg'd  for  that  which  thou  unask'd  shalt 
have. 


'Over  my  alters  hath  he  hung  his  lance, 
His  batter'd  shield,  his  uncontrolled  crest, 
And  for  my  sake  hath  learn'd  to  sport  and  dance, 
To  toy,  to  wanton,  dally,  smile  and  jest; 

Scorning  his  churlish  drum  and  ensign  red, 
Making  my  arms  his  field,  his  tent  my  bed. 


'Thus  he  that  overruled  I  overswayed, 
Leading  him  prisoner  in  a  red-rose  chain :  110 

Strong-temper'd  steel  his  stronger  strength  obeyed, 
Yet  was  he  servile  to  my  coy  disdain. 

O,  be  not  proud,  nor  brag  not  of  thy  might, 
For  mastering  her  that  foil'd  the  god  of  fight! 

#8 


Venus  and  Adonis  POEMS 

'Touch  but  my  lips  with  those  fair  lips  of  thine — 
Though  mine  be  not  so  fair,  yet  are  they  red — 
The  kiss  shall  be  thine  own  as  well  as  mine : 
What  see'st  thou  in  the  ground?  hold  up  thy  head: 

Look  in  mine  eyeballs,  there  thy  beauty  lies ; 

Then  why  not  lips  on  lips,  since  eyes  in  eyes? 


'Art  thou  ashamed  to  kiss?  then  wink  again, 

And  I  will  wink;  so  shall  the  day  seem  night; 

Love  keeps  his  revels  where  there  are  but  twain ; 

Be  bold  to  play,  our  sport  is  not  in  sight: 
These  blue-vein'd  violets  whereon  we  lean 
Never  can  blab,  nor  know  not  what  we  mean. 


'The  tender  spring  upon  thy  tempting  lip 
Shows  thee  unripe;  yet  mayst  thou  well  be  tasted: 
Make  use  of  time,  let  not  advantage  slip ; 
Beauty  within  itself  should  not  be  wasted:         130 

Fair  flowers  that  are  not  gather'd  in  their 
prime 

Rot  and  consume  themselves  in  little  time0 


"Were  I  hard-f avor'd,  foul,  or  wrinkled-old, 
Ill-nurtured,  crooked,  churlish,  harsh  in  voice, 
O'erworn,  despised,  rheumatic  and  cold, 
Thick-sighted,  barren,  lean,  and  lacking  juice, 

Then  mightst  thou  pause,  for  then  I  were  not 
for  thee ; 

But  having  no  defects,  why  dost  abhor  me? 

24 


POEMS  Venus  and  Adonis 

iThou  canst  not  see  one  wrinkle  in  my  brow; 
Mine  eyes  are  gray  and  bright  and  quick  in  turn* 
ing;  140 

My  beauty  as  the  spring  doth  yearly  grow, 
My  flesh  is  soft  and  plump,  my  marrow  burning ; 
My  smooth  moist  hand,  were  it  with  thy  hand 

felt, 
Would  in  thy  palm  dissolve,  or  seem  to  melt. 


Bid  me  discourse,  I  will  enchant  thine  ear, 
Or,  like  a  fairy,  trip  upon  the  green, 
Or,  like  a  nymph,  with  long  dishevel'd  hair, 
foance  on  the  sands,  and  yet  no  footing  seen: 
Love  is  a  spirit  all  compact  of  fire, 
Not  gross  to  sink,  but  light,  and  will  aspire.  150 


'Witness  this  primrose  bank  whereon  I  lie ; 

These  forceless  flowers  like  sturdy  trees  support 

me; 
Two  strengthless  doves  will  draw  me  through  the 

sky, 

From  morn  till  night,  even  where  I  list  to  sport  me : 
Is  love  so  light,  sweet  boy,  and  may  it  be 
That  thou  shouldst  think  it  heavy  unto  thee? 

144.  "would  in  thy  palm  dissolve";  what  moisture  of  hand  was 
thought  to  indicate,  is  shown  in  Antony  and  Cleopatra,  Act  i.  sc.  2: 
"Nay,  if  an  oily  palm  be  not  a  fruitful  prognostication,  I  cannot 
scratch  mine  ear."  And  in  Othello,  Act  iii.  sc.  4.  "Here's  a  young 
and  sweating  devil  here,  that  commonly  rebels.  'Tis  a  good  hand; 
a  frank  one."— H.  N.  H. 

156.  "shoutdst";  Q.  1,  "should."—!.  G 


Venus  and  Adonis  POEMS 

'Is  thine  own  heart  to  thine  own  face  affected? 

Can  thy  right  hand  seize  love  upon  thy  left? 

Then  woo  thyself,  be  of  thyself  rejected, 

Steal  thine  own  freedom,  and  complain  on  theft.  160 
Narcissus  so  himself  himself  forsook, 
And  died  to  kiss  his  shadow  in  the  brook. 

'Torches  are  made  to  light,  jewels  to  wear, 
Dainties  to  taste,  fresh  beauty  for  the  use, 
Herbs  for  their  smell,  and  sappy  plants  to  bear; 
Things  growing  to  themselves  are  growth's  abuse : 

Seeds  spring  from  seeds  and  beauty  breedeth 
beauty; 

Thou  wast  begot;  to  get  it  is  thy  duty. 

'Upon  the  earth's  increase  why  shouldst  thou  feed, 
Unless  the  earth  with  thy  increase  be  fed?         170 
By  law  of  nature  thou  art  bound  to  breed, 
That  thine  may  live  when  thou  thyself  art  dead; 
And  so,  in  spite  of  death,  thou  dost  survive, 
In  that  thy  likeness  still  is  left  alive/ 

By  this,  the  love-sick  queen  began  to  sweat, 
For,  where  they  lay,  the  shadow  had  forsook  them, 
And  Titan,  tired  in  the  mid-day  heat, 
With  burning  eye  did  hotly  overlook  them, 
Wishing  Adonis  had  his  team  to  guide, 
So  he  were  like  him  and  by  Venus'  side.         180 

161.  "Narcissus"  the  son  of  Cephisus  and  Liriope,  mistaking  his 
own  reflection  in  a  fountain  for  its  tutelary  nymph,  killed  himself 
in  his  unavailing  efforts  to  reach  her. — H.  N.  H. 

171.  Cp.  Sonnet  I.— I.  G. 

26 


POEMS  Venus  and  Adonis 

And  now  Adonis,  with  a  lazy  spright, 
And  with  a  heavy,  dark,  disliking  eye, 
His  louring  brows  overwhelming  his  fair  sight, 
Like  misty  vapors  when  they  blot  the  sky, 

Souring  his  cheeks,  cries,  Tie,  no  more  of  love ! 

The  sun  doth  burn  my  face ;  I  must  remove.' 


'Aye  me/  quoth  Venus,  'young,  and  so  unkind ! 
What  bare  excuses  makest  thou  to  be  gone! 
I  '11  sigh  celestial  breath,  whose  gentle  wind 
Shall  cool  the  heat  of  this  descending  sun: 

I  '11  make  a  shadow  for  thee  of  my  hairs ; 

If  they  burn  too,  I  '11  quench  them  with  my 
tears. 


'The  sun  that  shines  from  heaven  shines  but  warm, 
And,  lo,  I  lie  between  that  sun  and  thee: 
The  heat  I  have  from  thence  doth  little  harm, 
Thine  eye  darts  forth  the  fire  that  burneth  me; 
And  were  I  not  immortal,  life  were  done 
Between  this  heavenly  and  earthly  sun. 


'Art  thou  obdurate,  flinty,  hard  as  steel?  199 

Nay,  more  than  flint,  for  stone  at  rain  relenteth: 
Art  thou  a  woman's  son,  and  canst  not  feel 
What  'tis  to  love?  how  want  of  love  tormenteth? 
O,  had  thy  mother  borne  so  hard  a  mind, 
She  had  not  brought  forth  thee,  but  died  un- 
kind. 

27 


Venus  and  Adonis  POEMS 

'What  am  I,  that  thou  shouldst  contemn  me  this? 

Or  what  great  danger  dwells  upon  my  suit? 

What  were  thy  lips  the  worse  for  one  poor  kiss? 

Speak,  fair;  but  speak  fair  words,  or  else  be  mute: 
Give  me  one  kiss,  I  '11  give  it  thee  again,      209 
And  one  for  interest,  if  thou  wilt  have  twain. 

Tie,  lifeless  picture,  cold  and  senseless  stone, 
Well  painted  idol,  image  dull  and  dead, 
Statue  contenting  but  the  eye  alone, 
Thing  like  a  man,  but  of  no  woman  bred ! 

Thou  art  no  man,  though  of  a  man's  com- 
plexion, 

For  men  will  kiss  even  by  their  own  direction/ 

This  said,  impatience  chokes  her  pleading  tongue, 
And  swelling  passion  doth  provoke  a  pause; 
Red  cheeks  and  fiery  eyes  blaze  forth  her  wrong ; 
Being  judge  in  love,  she  cannot  right  her  cause :  220 

And  now  she  weeps,  and  now  she  fain  would 
speak, 

And  now  her  sobs  do  her  intendments  break. 

Sometimes  she  shakes  her  head,  and  then  his  hand, 
Now  gazeth  she  on  him,  now  on  the  ground; 
Sometimes  her  arms  infold  him  like  a  band: 
She  would,  he  will  not  in  her  arms  be  bound; 

And  when  from  thence  he  struggles  to  be  gone> 
She  locks  her  lily  fingers  one  in  one. 

911.  "lifeless";  Q.  1,  2,  3,  "Uuelesse."—!.  G. 

913.  "Statue";  Q.  1,  2,  3,  "Statue";  cp.  1.  1013;  Q.  3,  4,  "statues."-* 
I.  G. 

28 


POEMS  Venus  and  Adonis 

'Fondling,'  she  saith,  'since  I  have  hemm'd  thee 
here 

Within  the  circuit  of  this  ivory  pale,  230 

I  '11  be  a  park,  and  thou  shalt  be  my  deer; 

Feed  where  thou  wilt,  on  mountain  or  in  dale: 
Graze  on  my  lips,  and  if  those  hills  be  dry, 
Stray  lower,  where  the  pleasant  fountains  lie. 

'Within  this  limit  is  relief  enough, 
Sweet  bottom-grass  and  high  delightful  plain, 
Round  rising  hillocks,  brakes  obscure  and  rough, 
To  shelter  thee  from  tempest  and  from  rain: 

Then  be  my  deer,  since  I  am  such  a  park; 

No  dog  shall  rouse  thee,  though  a  thousand 
bark.'  240 

At  this  Adonis  smiles  as  in  disdain, 
That  in  each  cheek  appears  a  pretty  dimple : 
Love  made  those  hollows,  if  himself  were  slain, 
He  might  be  buried  in  a  tomb  so  simple ; 

Foreknowing  well,  if  there  he  came  to  lie, 
Why,  there  Love  lived,  and  there  he  could  not 
die. 

These  lovely  caves,  these  round  enchanting  pits, 
Open'd  their  mouths  to  swallow  Venus'  liking. 
Being  mad  before,  how  doth  she  now  for  wits?    249 
Struck  dead  at  first,  what  needs  a  second  striking? 
Poor  queen  of  love,  in  thine  own  law  forlorn, 
To  love  a  cheek  that  smiles  at  thee  in  scorn  1 

231;  239;  689.  "deer";  Q.  1,  2,  3,  "deare."—!.  G. 

29 


Venus  and  Adonis  POEMS 

Now  which  way  shall  she  turn?  what  shall  she  say? 

Her  words  are  done,  her  woes  the  more  increasing ; 

The  time  is  spent,  her  object  will  away 

And  from  her  twining  arms  doth  urge  releasing. 
'Pity,'  she  cries,  'some  favor,  some  remorse!' 
Away  he  springs,  and  hasteth  to  his  horse. 

But,  lo,  from  forth  a  copse  that  neighbors  by, 

A  breeding  jennet,  lusty,  young  and  proud,         260 

Adonis'  trampling  courser  doth  espy, 

And  forth  she  rushes,  snorts  and  neighs  aloud: 

The  strong-neck'd  steed,  being  tied  unto  a 
tree, 

Breaketh  his  rein  and  to  her  straight  goes  he. 


Imperiously  he  leaps,  he  neighs,  he  bounds, 
And  now  his  woven  girths  he  breaks  asunder; 
The  bearing  earth  with  his  hard  hoof  he  wounds, 
Whose  hollow  womb  resounds  like  heaven's  thun- 
der; 

The  iron  bit  he  crusheth  'tween  his  teeth, 
Controlling  what  he  was  controlled  with.     270 

His  ears  up-prick'd;  his  braided  hanging  mane 
Upon  his  compass'd  crest  now  stand  on  end ; 
His  nostrils  drink  the  air,  and  forth  again, 
As  from  a  furnace,  vapors  doth  he  send : 

His  eye,  which  scornfully  glisters  like  fire, 
Shows  his  hot  courage  and  his  high  desire. 

272.  "stand,"  so  Q.  1-4;  the  rest,  "stands"— I.  G. 

30 


POEMS;  Venus  and  Adonis 

Sometime  he  trots,  as  if  he  told  the  steps, 
With  gentle  majesty  and  modest  pride; 
Anon  he  rears  upright,  curvets  and  leaps,  279  ' 

As  who  should  say  'Lo,  thus  my  strength  is  tried; 
And  this  I.  do  to  captivate  the  eye 
Of  the  fair  breeder  that  is  standing  by/ 

iWhat  recketh  he  his  rider's  angry  stir, 

His  flattering  'Holla'  or  his  'Stand,  I  say'? 

iWhat  cares  he  now  for  curb  or  pricking  spur? 

For  rich  caparisons  or  trappings  gay? 

He  sees  his  love,  and  nothing  else  he  sees, 
For  nothing  else  with  his  proud  sight  agrees. 

Uook,  when  a  painter  would  surpass  the  life, 
In  limning  out  a  well  proportion'd  steed,  290 

His  art  with  nature's  workmanship  at  strife, 
As  if  the  dead  the  living  should  exceed; 
So  did  this  horse  excel  a  common  one 
In  shape,  in  courage,  color,  pace  and  bone. 

Round-hoof 'd,    short- jointed,    fetlocks    shag    and 

long, 

Broad  breast,  full  eye,  small  head  and  nostril  wide, 
High  crest,  short  ears,  straight  legs  and  passing 

strong, 

Thin  mane,  thick  tail,  broad  buttock,  tender  hide: 
Look,  what  a  horse  should  have  he  did  not  lack, 
Save  a  proud  rider  on  so  proud  a  back.         300 

283.  "stii";  Q.  1,  2,  3,  "sturre."—I.  G. 

284.  "'Holla'";   hold!   enough!    (a  less  peremptory  phrase  than 
"Stand!")— C.  H.  H. 

31 


Venus  and  Adonis  POEMS 

Sometime  he  scuds  far  off,  and  there  he  stares; 
Anon  he  starts  at  stirring  of  a  feather ; 
To  bid  the  wind  a  base  he  now  prepares, 
And  whether  he  run  or  fly  they  know  not  whether; 
For  through  his  mane  and  tail  the  high  wind 

sings, 

Fanning  the  hairs,  who  wave  like  feather'd 
wings. 

He  looks  upon  his  love  and  neighs  unto  her; 
She  answers  him,  as  if  she  knew  his  mind: 
Being  proud,  as  females  are,  to  see  him  woo  her, 
She  puts  on  outward  strangeness,  seems  unkind,  310 
Spurns  at  his  love  and  scorns  the  heat  he  feels, 
Beating  his  kind  embracements  with  her  heels. 

Then,  like  a  melancholy  malcontent, 
He  vails  his  tail,  that,  like  a  falling  plume, 
Cool  shadow  to  his  melting  buttock  lent : 
He  stamps,  and  bites  the  poor  flies  in  his  fume. 
His  love,  perceiving  how  he  was  enraged, 
Grew  kinder,  and  his  fury  was  assuaged. 

His  testy  master  goeth  about  to  take  him; 
When,  lo,  the  unback'd  breeder,  full  of  fear,      320 
Jealous  of  catching,  swiftly  doth  forsake  him, 
With  her  the  horse,  and  left  Adonis  there: 

As  they  were  mad,  unto  the  wood  they  hie 

them, 

Out-stripping   crows  that   strive   to   over-fly 
them. 

304.  "And  whether";  Qq.,  "And  where"  (I.  e.  "whSer") .—I.  G. 

32 


POEMS  Venus  and  Adonis 

All  swoln  with  chafing,  down  Adonis  sits, 
Banning  his  boisterous  and  unruly  beast: 
And  now  the  happy  season  once  more  fits, 
That  love-sick  Love  by  pleading  may  be  blest; 
For  lovers  say,  the  heart  hath  treble  wrong 
When  it  is  barr'd  the  aidance  of  the  tongue.  330 


An  oven  that  is  stopp'd,  or  river  stay'd, 

Burneth  more  hotly,  swelleth  with  more  rage: 

So  of  concealed  sorrow  may  be  said; 

Free  vent  of  words  love's  fire  doth  assuage; 

But  when  the  heart's  attorney  once  is  mute, 
The  client  breaks,  as  desperate  in  his  suit. 


He  sees  her  coming,  and  begins  to  glow, 
Even  as  a  dying  coal  revives  with  wind, 
And  with  his  bonnet  hides  his  angry  brow, 
Looks  on  the  dull  earth  with  disturbed  mind,    340 
Taking  no  notice  that  she  is  so  nigh, 
For  all  askance  he  holds  her  in  his  eye. 


O,  what  a  sight  it  was,  wistly  to  view 
How  she  came  stealing  to  the  wayward  boy  I 
To  note  the  fighting  conflict  of  her  hue, 
How  white  and  red  each  other  did  destroy! 

But  now  her  cheek  was  pale,  and  by  and  by 
It  flash'd  forth  fire,  as  lightning  from  the  sky. 

334;  402.  "fire";  Q.  1,  8,  3,  "fier";  but  "fire,"  1.  494  (rhyming  with, 
"desire").— I.  G. 

XXXIX— 3  33 


Venus  and  Adonis  POEMS 

Now  was  she  just  before  him  as  he  sat, 
And  like  a  lowly  lover  down  she  kneels ;  350 

With  one  fair  hand  she  heaveth  up  his  hat, 
Her  other  tender  hand  his  fair  cheek  feels : 

His  tenderer  cheek  receives  her  soft  hand's 
print, 

As  apt  as  new-f alTn  snow  takes  any  dint. 

O,  what  a  war  of  looks  was  then  between  them! 

Her  eyes  petitioners  to  his  eyes  suing; 

His  eyes  saw  her  eyes  as  they  had  not  seen  them ; 

Her  eyes  woo'd  still,  his  eyes  disdain'd  the  wooing: 
And  all  this  dumb  play  had  his  acts  made  plain 
With  tears,  which  chorus-like  her  eyes  did  rain. 

Full  gently  now  she  takes  him  by  the  hand,         361 

A  lily  prison'd  in  a  jail  of  snow, 

Or  ivory  in  an  alabaster  band; 

So  white  a  friend  engirts  so  white  a  foe : 

This  beauteous  combat,  wilful  and  unwilling, 
Show'd  like  two  silver  doves  that  sit  a-billing. 

Once  more  the  engine  of  her  thoughts  began: 

'O  fairest  mover  on  this  mortal  round, 

Would  thou  wert  as  I  am,  and  I  a  man,  369 

353.  "tenderer";  Q.  1,  "tendrer";  the  rest,  "tender."— I.  G. 

359.  "Ms  acts  made  plain";  we  have  often  seen  that  his  was  con- 
stantly used  for  its  in  the  Poet's  time,  the  latter  not  being  then  a 
legitimate  word. — The  closing  couplet  of  this  stanza  is  an  evident  al- 
lusion to  the  dumb  shows,  and  accompanying  choruses  of  the  old 
stage.— H.  N.  H. 

362.  "jail";  Qq.,  "gaile";  "Iaile."—I.  G. 

370.  "thy  heart  my  wound";  thy  heart  wounded  as  mine  is. — H. 
N.  H. 

34 


POEMS  Venus  and  Adonis 

My  heart  all  whole  as  thine,  thy  heart  my  wound; 
For  one  sweet  look  thy  help  I  would  assure 

thee, 

,    Though  nothing  but  my  body's  bane  would 
cure  thee.5 


'Give  me  my  hand/  saith  he ;  'why  dost  thou  feel  it !' 
'Give  me  my  heart/  saith  she,  'and  thou  shalt  have 

it; 

O,  give  it  me,  lest  thy  hard  heart  do  steel  it, 
And  being  steel' d,  soft  sighs  can  never  grave  it: 
Then  love's  deep  groans  I  never  shall  regard, 
Because  Adonis'  heart  hath  made  mine  hard/ 


Tor  shame/  he  cries,  'let  go,  and  let  me  go; 

My  day's  delight  is  past,  my  horse  is  gone,        380 

And  'tis  your  fault  I  am  bereft  him  so : 

I  pray  you  hence,  and  leave  me  here  alone; 

For  all  my  mind,  my  thought,  my  busy  care, 
Is  how  to  get  my  palfrey  from  the  mare/ 


Thus  she  replies :  'Thy  palfrey,  as  he  should, 
Welcomes  the  warm  approach  of  sweet  desire: 
Affection  is  a  coal  that  must  be  cool'd ; 
Else,  suffer'd,  it  will  set  the  heart  on  fire : 

The  sea  hath  bounds,  but  deep  desire  hath 

none ; 

Therefore  no  marvel  though  thy   horse   be 
gone. 

35 


Venus  and  Adonis  POEMS 

'How  like  a  jade  he  stood,  tied  to  the  tree, 
Servilely  mastered  with  a  leathern  rein! 
But  when  he  saw  his  love,  his  youth's  fair  fee, 
He  held  such  petty  bondage  in  disdain ; 

Throwing  the  base  thong  from  his  bending 
crest, 

Enfranchising  his  mouth,  his  back,  his  breast. 

"Who  sees  his  true-love  in  her  naked  bed, 
Teaching  the  sheets  a  whiter  hue  than  white, 
But,  when  his  glutton  eye  so  full  hath  fed, 
His  other  agents  aim  at  like  delight?  400 

Who  is  so  faint,  that  dares  not  be  so  bold 
To  touch  the  fire,  the  weather  being  cold? 

'Let  me  excuse  thy  courser,  gentle  boy; 

And  learn  of  him,  I  heartily  beseech  thee, 

To  take  advantage  on  presented  joy; 

Though  I  were  dumb,  yet  his  proceedings  teach 

thee: 

O,  learn  to  love ;  the  lesson  is  but  plain, 
And  once  made  perfect,  never  lost  again/ 

'I  know  not  love,'  quoth  he,  'nor  will  not  know  it, 
Unless  it  be  a  boar,  and  then  I  chase  it ;  410 

'Tis  much  to  borrow,  and  I  will  not  owe  it ; 

392.  "master'd";  Q.  1,  2,  3,  "  moist  er'd";  cp.  1.   114,  "mastering"; 
Q.  1,  2,  3,  "maistring."—!.  G. 

,  "rein";  Q.  1-10,  "raine."—!.  G. 

412.  "is  love  but  to  disgrace  it";  my  inclination  towards  love  is 
only  a  desire  to  render  it  contemptible. — H.  N.  H. 

36 


POEMS  Venus  and  Adonis 

My  love  to  love  is  love  but  to  disgrace  it; 
For  I  have  heard  it  is  a  life  in  death, 
That  laughs,  and  weeps,  and  all  but  with  a 
breath. 

' Who  wears  a  garment  shapeless  and  unfinished? 
Who  plucks  the  bud  before  one  leaf  put  forth? 
If  springing  things  be  any  jot  diminish'd, 
They  wither  in  their  prime,  prove  nothing  worth : 

The  colt  that 's  back'd  and  burthen'd  being 
young 

Loseth  his  pride,  and  never  waxeth  strong.  420 

'You  hurt  my  hand  with  wringing ;  let  us  part, 
And  Jeave  this  idle  theme,  this  bootless  chat : 
Remove  your  siege  from  my  unyielding  heart ; 
To  love's  alarms  it  will  not  ope  the  gate: 

Dismiss  your  vows,  your  feigned  tears,  your 

flattery ; 

For  where  a  heart  is  hard  they  make  no  bat- 
tery/ 

5 What!  canst  thou  talk?'  quoth  she,  'hast  thou  a 

tongue? 

O,  would  thou  hadst  not,  or  I  had  no  hearing! 
Thy  mermaid's  voice  hath  done  me  double  wrong; 
I  had  my  load  before,  now  press'd  with  bearing :  430 
Melodious  discord,  heavenly  tune  harsh-sound- 
ing, 

Ear's  deep-sweet  music,  and  heart's  deep-sore 
wounding. 

429.  "mermaid's";  early  Qq.,  "marmaides";  "marmaids";  cp.  1.  777; 
Q.  1,  2,  3,  "marmaids";  Q.  4,  "mirmaides" — I.  G. 

37 


Venus  and  Adonis  POEMS 

'Had  I  no  eyes  but  ears,  my  ears  would  love 

That  inward  beauty  and  invisible; 

Or  were  I  deaf,  thy  outward  parts  would  move 

Each  part  in  me  that  were  but  sensible : 

Though  neither  eyes  nor  ears,  to  hear  nor  see, 
Yet  should  I  be  in  love  by  touching  thee. 


'Say,  that  the  sense  of  feeling  were  bereft  me, 
And  that  I  could  not  see,  nor  hear,  nor  touch,     440 
And  nothing  but  the  very  smell  were  left  me, 
Yet  would  my  love  to  thee  be  still  as  much; 

For  from  the  stillitory  of  thy  face  excelling 
Comes  breath  perfumed,  that  breedeth  love  by 
smelling. 

'But,  O,  what  banquet  wert  thou  to  the  taste, 
Being  nurse  and  feeder  of  the  other  four! 
Would  they  not  wish  the  feast  might  ever  last, 
And  bid  Suspicion  double-lock  the  door, 

Lest  Jealousy,  that  sour  unwelcome  guest, 
Should  by  his  stealing  in  disturb  the  feast?'  450 

Once  more  the  ruby-color'd  portal  open'd, 
Which  to  his  speech  did  honey  passage  yield; 
Like  a  red  morn,  that  ever  yet  betoken'd 
Wreck  to  the  seaman,  tempest  to  the  field, 
Sorrow  to  shepherds,  woe  unto  the  birds, 
Gusts  and  foul  flaws  to  herdmen  and  to  herds. 

434.  "invisible";  Steevens  conj.  "invincible." — I.  G. 

454.  "wreck";  Qq.,  wracke,"  "wrack"  (cp.  1.  558).—!.  G. 

38 


POEMS  Venus  and  Adonis 

This  ill  presage  advisedly  she  marketh : 
Even  as  the  wind  is  hush'd  before  it  raineth, 
Or  as  the  wolf  doth  grin  before  he  barketh,  ' 
Or  as  the  berry  breaks  before  it  staineth, 
Or  like  the  deadly  bullet  of  a  gun, 
His  meaning  struck  her  ere  his  words  begun* 


And  at  his  look  she  flatly  f  alleth  down, 
For  looks  kill  love,  and  love  by  looks  reviveth: 
A  smile  recures  the  wounding  of  a  frown ; 
But  blessed  bankrupt,  that  by  love  so  thriveth! 
The  silly  boy,  believing  she  is  dead, 
Claps  her  pale  cheek,  till  clapping  makes  it  red; 


And  all  amazed  brake  off  his  late  intent, 
For  sharply  he  did  think  to  reprehend  her, 
Which  cunning  love  did  wittily  prevent: 
Fair  fall  the  wit  that  can  so  well  defend  her! 
For  on  the  grass  she  lies  as  she  were  slain, 
Till  his  breath  breatheth  life  in  her  again. 


He  wrings  her  nose,  he  strikes  her  on  the  cheeks, 
He  bends  her  fingers,  holds  her  pulses  hard, 
He  chafes  her  lips  ;  a  thousand  ways  he  seeks 
To  mend  the  hurt  that  his  unkindness  marr'd: 
He  kisses  her;  and  she,  by  her  good  will, 
Will  never  rise,  so  he  will  kiss  her  still.        480 

466.  "bankrupt";    Qq.,    "bankrout,"    "banckrout,"    "banquerout."  — 
I.  G. 
"love";  S.  Walker  conj.  "loss."—  I.  G. 

39 


Venus  and  Adonis  POEMS 

The  night  of  sorrow  now  is  turn'd  to  day: 
Her  two  blue  windows  faintly  she  up-heaveth, 
Like  the  fair  sun,  when  in  his  fresh  array 
He  cheers  the  morn,  and  all  the  earth  relievetK: 
And  as  the  bright  sun  glorifies  the  sky, 
So  is  her  face  illumined  with  her  eye; 


Whose  beams  upon  his  hairless  face  are  fix'd, 
As  if  from  thence  they  borrowed  all  their  shine. 
Were  never  four  such  lamps  together  mix'd, 
Had  not  his  clouded  with  his  brow's  repine ;         490 

But  hers,  which  through  the  crystal  tears  gave 
light, 

Shone  like  the  moon  in  water  seen  by  night. 


*O,  where  am  I V  quoth  she ;  'in  earth  or  heaven, 
Or  in  the  ocean  drench'd,  or  in  the  fire? 
What  hour  is  this?  or  morn  or  weary  even? 
Do  I  delight  to  die,  or  life  desire  ? 

But  now  I  lived,  and  life  was  death's  annoy; 

But  now  I  died,  and  death  was  lively  joy. 


*O,  thou  didst  kill  me:  kill  me  once  again: 
Thy  eyes'  shrewd  tutor,  that  hard  heart  of  thine,  500 
Hath  taught  them  scornful  tricks,  and  such  disdain, 
That  they  have  murder'd  this  poor  heart  of  mine ; 

And  these  mine  eyes,  true  leaders  to  their 
queen, 

But  for  thy;  piteous  lips  no  more  had  seen. 

40 


POEMS  Venus  and  Adonis 

'Long  may  they  kiss  each  other,  for  this  cure! 

O,  never  let  their  crimson  liveries  wear ! 

And  as  they  last,  their  verdure  still  endure, 

To  drive  infection  from  the  dangerous  year ! 
That  the  star-gazers,  having  writ  on  death, 
May  say,  the  plague  is  banish'd  by  thy  breath, 

'Pure  lips,  sweet  seals  in  my  soft  lips  imprinted,  511 
Whp,t  bargains  may  I  make,  still  to  be  sealing? 
To  sell  myself  I  can  be  well  contented, 
So  thou  wilt  buy,  and  pay,  and  use  good  dealing; 
Which  purchase  if  thou  make,  for  fear  of  slips 
Set  thy  seal-manual  on  my  wax-red  lips. 

'A  thousand  kisses  buys  my  heart  from  me ; 
And  pay  them  at  thy  leisure,  one  by  one. 
What  is  ten  hundred  touches  unto  thee? 
Are  they  not  quickly  told  and  quickly  gone?        520 

Say,  for  non-payment  that  the  debt  should 
double, 

Is  twenty  hundred  kisses  such  a  trouble  V 

'Fair  queen,'  quoth  he,  'if  any  love  you  owe  me, 
Measure  my  strangeness  with  my  unripe  years : 
Before  I  know  myself,  seek  not  to  know  me ; 
No  fisher  but  the  ungrown  fry  forbears: 

The  mellow  plum  doth  fall,  the  green  sticks 
fast, 

Or  being  early  pluck'd  is  sour  to  taste. 

507.  "verdure";  Q.  1,  2,  3,  "verdour."—!.  G. 
11  J  41 


Venus  and  Adonis  POEMS 

'Look,  the  world's  comforter,  with  weary  gait, 
His  day's  hot  task  hath  ended  in  the  west ;  530 

The  owl,  night's  herald,  shrieks,  'tis  very  late; 
The  sheep  are  gone  to  fold,  birds  to  their  nest; 

And  coal-black  clouds  that  shadow  heaven's 
light 

Do  summon  us  to  part,  and  bid  good  night. 

"Now  let  me  say  'Good  night/  and  so  say  you; 

If  you  will  say  so,  you  shall  have  a  kiss.' 

'Good  night,'  quoth  she;  and,  ere  he  says  'Adieu,' 

The  honey  fee  of  parting  tender'd  is: 

Her  arms  do  lend  his  neck  a  sweet  embrace : 
Incorporate  then  they  seem;   face  grows  to 
face.  540 

Till  breathless  he  disjoin'd,  and  backward  drew 
The  heavenly  moisture,  that  sweet  coral  mouth, 
Whose  precious  taste  her  thirsty  lips  well  knew, 
,  Whereon  they  surfeit,  yet  complain  on  drouth : 

He  with  her  plenty  press'd,  she  faint  with 

dearth, 
Their  lips  together  glued,  fall  to  the  earth. 

Now  quick  desire  hath  caught  the  yielding  prey, 
And  glutton-like  she  feeds,  yet  never  filleth ; 
Her  lips  are  conquerors,  his  lips  obey, 
Paying  what  ransom  the  insulter  willeth ;  550 

Whose  vulture  thought  doth  pitch  the  price  so 
high, 

That  she  will  draw  his  lips'  rich  treasure  dry. 

529.  "gait";  Qq.,  "gate."— I.  G. 

547.  "prey";  Qq.,  "pray"  (tho'  rhyming  with  "obey") ;  so  "prayes" 
L  724,  and  "pray"  (rhyming  with  "day"),  1.  1097.— I.  G. 

42 


POEMS  Venus  and  Adonis 

And  having  felt  the  sweetness  of  the  spoil, 
With  blindfold  fury  she  begins  to  forage; 
Her  face  doth  reek  and  smoke,  her  blood  doth  boil, 
And  careless  lust  stirs  up  a  desperate  courage, 
Planting  oblivion,  beating  reason  back, 
Forgetting  shame's  pure   blush  and  honor's 
wrack. 

Hot,  faint  and  weary,  with  her  hard  embracing, 
Like  a  wild  bird  being  tamed  with  too  much  hand- 
ling, 560 
Or  as  the  fleet-foot  roe  that 's  tired  with  chasing, 
Or  like  the  froward  infant  still'd  with  dandling, 
He  now  obeys,  and  now  no  more  resisteth, 
While  she  takes  all  she  can,  not  all  she  listeth. 

What  wax  so  frozen  but  dissolves  with  tempering, 
And  yields  at  last  to  every  light  impression? 
Things  out  of  hope  are  compass'd  oft  with  ventur- 
ing, 

Chiefly  in  love,  whose  leave  exceeds  commission : 
Affection  faints  not  like  a  pale-faced  coward, 
But  then  woos  best  when  most  his  choice  is 
froward.  570 

When  he  did  frown,  O,  had  she  then  gave  over, 

Such  nectar  from  his  lips  she  had  not  suck'd. 

Foul  words  and  frowns  must  not  repel  a  lover; 

What  though  the  rose  have  prickles,  yet  'tis  pluck'd : 
Were  beauty  under  twenty  locks  kept  fast, 
Yet  love  breaks  through,  and  pricks  them  all 
at  last. 

567.  "venturing";  Qq.,  "ventring."—!.  G. 
43 


Venus  and  Adonis  POEMS 

For  pity  now  she  can  no  more  detain  him ; 

The  poor  fool  prays  her  that  he  may  depart : 

She  is  resolved  no  longer  to  restrain  him ; 

Bids  him  farewell,  and  look  well  to  her  heart,      580 
The  which,  by  Cupid's  bow  she  doth  protest, 
He  carries  thence  incaged  in  his  breast. 


'Sweet  boy/  she  says,  'this  night  I  '11  waste  in  sor- 
row, 

For  my  sick  heart  commands  mine  eyes  to  watch. 

Tell  me,  love's  master,  shall  we  meet  to-morrow? 

Say,  shall  we?  shall  we?  wilt  thou  make  the  match?' 
He  tells  her,  no ;  to-morrow  he  intends 
To  hunt  the  boar  with  certain  of  his  friends. 


'The  boar!'  quoth  she:  whereat  a  sudden  pale, 
Like  lawn  being  spread  upon  the  blushing  rose,  590 
Usurps  her  cheek ;  she  trembles  at  his  tale, 
And  on  his  neck  her  yoking  arms  she  throws : 
She  sin&eth  down,  still  hanging  by  his  neck, 
He  on  her  belly  falls,  she  on  her  back. 


Now  is  she  in  the  very  lists  of  love, 

Her  champion  mounted  for  the  hot  encounter: 

All  is  imaginary  she  doth  prove, 

He  will  not  manage  her,  although  he  mount  her ; 
That  worse  than  Tantalus'  is  her  annoy, 
To  clip  Elysium,  and  to  lack  her  joy.  600 

599.  "Tantalus";  Qq.,  "Tantalus."— I.  G. 

44 


•POEMS  Venus  and  Adonis 

Even  so  poor  birds,  deceived  with  painted  grapes, 
Do  surfeit  by  the  eye  and  pine  the  maw, 
Even  so  she  languisheth  in  her  mishaps 
As  those  poor  birds  that  helpless  berries  saw. 

The  warm  effects  which  she  in  him  finds  miss- 
ing 

She  seeks  to  kindle  with  continual  kissing. 

But  all  in  vain ;  good  queen,  it  will  not  be : 

She  hath  assay 'd  as  much  as  may  be  proved; 

Her  pleading  hath  deserved  a  greater  fee ; 

She  's  Love,  she  loves,  and  yet  she  is  not  loved.  610 

'Fie,  fie,'  he  says,  'y°u  crush  me;  let  me  go; 

You  have  no  reason  to  withhold  me  so/ 

€Thou  hadst  been  gone/  quoth  she,  'sweet  boy,  ere 
this, 

But  that  thou  told'st  me  thou  wouldst  hunt  the  boar. 

O,  be  advised:  thou  know'st  not  what  it  is 

With  javelin's  point  a  churlish  swine  to  gore, 

Whose  tushes  never  sheathed  he  whetteth  still, 
Like  to  a  mortal  butcher,  bent  to  kill. 

'On  his  bow-back  he  hath  a  battle  set 

Of  bristly  pikes,  that  ever  threat  his  foes;           620 

His  eyes,  like  glow-worms,  shine  when  he  doth  fret ; 

His  snout  digs  sepulchers  where'er  he  goes; 

Being  moved,  he  strikes  whate'er  is  in  his  way, 
And  whom  he  strikes  his  crooked  tushes  slay. 

601.  "deceived  with  painted  grapes";  alluding  to  the  picture  of 
Zeuxis,  in  which  the  grapes  are  said  to  have  been  represented  so  well 
that  the  birds  mistook  them  for  nature's  own  work. — H.  N.  H. 

45 


Venus  and  Adonis  POEMS 

'His  brawny  sides,  with  hairy  bristles  armed, 

Are  better  proof  than  thy  spear's  point  can  enter ; 

His  short  thick  neck  cannot  be  easily  harmed; 

Being  ireful,  on  the  lion  he  will  venture : 

The  thorny  brambles  and  embracing  bushes, 
As  fearful  of  him,  part;  through  whom  he 
rushes.  630 


'Alas,  he  nought  esteems  that  face  of  thine, 
To  which  Love's  eyes  pay  tributary  gazes ; 
Nor  thy  soft  hands,  sweet  lips  and  crystal  eyne, 
Whose  full  perfection  all  the  world  amazes; 

But     having     thee     at     vantage — wondrous 
dread ! — 

Would  root  these  beauties  as  he  roots  the  mead. 


'O,  let  him  keep  his  loathsome  cabin  still; 
Beauty  hath  nought  to  do  with  such  foul  fiends : 
Come  not  within  his  danger  by  thy  will ; 
They  that  thrive  well  take  counsel  of  their  friends. 
When  thou  didst  name  the  boar,  not  to  dis- 
semble, 

I  fear'd  thy  fortune,  and  my  joints  did  trem- 
ble. 


'Didst  thou  not  mark  my  face?  was  it  not  white? 
Saw'st  thou  not  signs  of  fear  lurk  in  mine  eye? 
Grew  I  not  faint?  and  fell  I  not  downright? 

628.  "venture";  Qq.,  "venter"  (rhyming  with  "enter"). — I.  G. 
632.  "eyes  pay";  Q.  1,  2,  "eye  paies."—!.  G. 

46 


POEMS  Venus  and  Adonis 

•Within  my  bosom,  whereon  thou  dost  lie, 

My  boding  heart  pants,  beats,  and  takes  no 

rest, 

But,  like  an  earthquake,  shakes  thee  on  my 
breast. 


Tor  where  Love  reigns,  disturbing  Jealousy 
Doth  call  himself  Affection's  sentinel;  650 

Gives  false  alarms,  suggested  mutiny, 
And  in  a  peaceful  hour  doth  cry  'Kill,  kill!' 
Distempering  gentle  Love  in  his  desire, 
As  air  and  water  do  abate  the  fire. 


'This  sour  informer,  this  bate-breeding  spy, 

This  canker  that  eats  up  Love's  tender  spring, 

This  carry-tale,  dissentious  Jealousy, 

That   sometime  true   news,   sometime   false   doth 

bring, 

Knocks  at  my  heart,  and  whispers  in  mine  ear, 
That  if  I  love  thee,  I  thy  death  should  fear :  660 


'And  more  than  so,  presenteth  to  mine  eye 
The  picture  of  an  angry-chafing  boar, 
Under  whose  sharp  fangs  on  his  back  doth  lie 
An  image  like  thyself,  all  stain'd  with  gore ; 

Whose  blood  upon  the  fresh  flowers  being  shed 
Doth  make  them  droop  with  grief  and  hang 
the  head. 


Venus  and  Adonis  POEMS 

'What  should  I  do,  seeing  thee  so  indeed, 

That  tremble  at  the  imagination? 

The  thought  of  it  doth  make  my  faint  heart  bleed, 

And  fear  doth  teach  it  divination:  670 

I  prophesy  thy  death,  my  living  sorrow, 
If  thou  encounter  with  the  boar  to-morrow. 


'But  if  thou  needs  wilt  hunt,  be  ruled  by  me ; 

Uncouple  at  the  timorous  flying  hare, 

Or  at  the  fox  which  lives  by  subtlety, 

Or  at  the  roe  which  no  encounter  dare : 

Pursue  these  fearful  creatures  o'er  the  downs, 
And  on  thy  well-breath'd  horse  keep  with  thy 
hounds. 


'And  when  thou  hast  on  foot  the  purblind  hare, 
Mark  the  poor  wretch,  to  overshoot  his  troubles,  680 
How  he  outruns  the  wind,  and  with  what  care 
He  cranks  and  crosses  with  a  thousand  doubles: 
The  many  musits  through  the  which  he  goes 
Are  like  a  labyrinth  to  amaze  his  foes. 

'Sometime  he  runs  among  a  flock  of  sheep, 
To  make  the  cunning  hounds  mistake  their  smell, 
And  sometime  where  earth-delving  conies  keep, 
To  stop  the  loud  pursuers  in  their  yell ; 

And  sometime  sorteth  with  a  herd  of  deer : 
Danger  deviseth  shifts ;  wit  waits  on  fear :     690 

680.  "overshoot,"  Steevens  conj.;  Qq.  1,  2,  3,  "over-shut."— I.  G. 
684.  "amaze";  bewilder.— C.  H.  H. 

48 


POEMS  Venus  and  Adonis 

Tor  there  his  smell  with  others  being  mingled, 
The  hot  scent-snuffing  hounds  are  driven  to  doubt, 
Ceasing  their  clamorous  cry  till  they  have  singled 
With  much  ado  the  cold  fault  cleanly  out ; 

Then  do  they  spend  their  mouths :  Echo  replies, 
As  if  another  chase  were  in  the  skies. 


'By  this,  poor  Wat,  far  off  upon  a  hill, 
Stands  on  his  hinder  legs  with  listening  ear, 
To  hearken  if  his  foes  pursue  him  still: 
Anon  their  loud  alarums  he  doth  hear;  700 

And  now  his  grief  may  be  compared  well 
To  one  sore  sick  that  hears  the  passing-bell. 


'Then  shalt  thou  see  the  dew-bedabbled  wretch 
Turn,  and  return,  indenting  with  the  way ; 
Each  envious  briar  his  weary  legs  doth  scratch, 
Each  shadow  makes  him  stop,  each  murmur  stay: 
For  misery  is  trodden  on  by  many, 
And  being  low  never  relieved  by  any. 


'Lie  quietly,  and  hear  a  little  more; 
Nay,  do  not  struggle,  for  thou  shalt  not  rise: 
To  make  thee  hate  the  hunting  of  the  boar, 
Unlike  myself  thou  hear'st  me  moralize, 

Applying  this  to  that,  and  so  to  so ; 

For  love  can  comment  upon  every  woe 

705.  "doth";  Q.  1,  2,  3,  "do."— I.  G. 
XXXIX— 4  49 


Venus  and  Adonis  VENUS   AND   ADONIS 

/Where  did  I  leave?'    'No  matter  where,'  quoth  he; 

'Leave  me,  and  then  the  story  aptly  ends : 

The  night  is  spent.'  'Why,  what  of  that?'  quoth  she. 

'I  am/  quoth  he,  'expected  of  my  friends ; 

And  now  'tis  dark,  and  going  I  shall  fall.' 
'In  night,'  quoth  she,  'desire  sees  best  of  all.  720 


'But  if  thou  fall,  O,  then  imagine  this, 

The  earth,  in  love  with  thee,  thy  footing  trips, 

And  all  is  but  to  rob  thee  of  a  kiss. 

Rich  preys  make  true  men  thieves ;  so  do  thy  lips 
Make  modest  Dian  cloudy  and  forlorn, 
Lest  she  should  steal  a  kiss,  and  die  forsworn. 


'Now  of  this  dark  night  I  perceive  the  reason: 
Cynthia  for  shame  obscures  her  silver  shine, 
Till  forging  Nature  be  condemn'd  of  treason, 
For  stealing  moulds  from  heaven  that  were  divine ; 

Wherein  she  framed  thee,  in  high  heaven's  de- 
spite, .    731 

To  shame  the  sun  by  day  and  her  by  night. 


'And  therefore  hath  she  bribed  the  Destinies 
To  cross  the  curious  workmanship  of  nature, 
To  mingle  beauty  with  infirmities 
And  pure  perfection  with  impure  defeature; 
Making  it  subject  to  the  tyranny 
Of  mad  mischances  and  much  misery ; 


POEMS  Venus  and  Adonis 

'As  burning  fevers,  agues  pale  and  faint, 
Life-poisoning  pestilence  and  frenzies  wood,      740 
The  marrow-eating  sickness,  whose  attaint 
Disorder  breeds  by  heating  of  the  blood : 

Surfeits,  imposthumes,  grief  and  damn'd  de- 
spair, 

Swear  Nature's  death  for  framing  thee  so  fair. 


'And  not  the  least  of  all  these  maladies 
But  in  one  minute's  fight  brings  beauty  under : 
Both  favor,  savor,  hue  and  qualities, 
Whereat  the  impartial  gazer  late  did  wonder, 

Are  on  the  sudden  wasted,  thaw'd  and  done, 
As  mountain  snow  melts  with  the  midday  sun. 


'Therefore,  despite  of  fruitless  chastity,  751 

Love-lacking  vestals  and  self -loving  nuns, 
That  on  the  earth  would  breed  a  scarcity 
And  barren  dearth  of  daughters  and  of  sons, 
Be  prodigal:  the  lamp  that  burns  by  night 
Dries  up  his  oil  to  lend  the  world  his  light. 


'What  is  thy  body  but  a  swallowing  grave, 

Seeming  to  bury  that  posterity 

Which  by  the  rights  of  time  thou  needs  must  have, 

If  thou  destroy  them  not  in  dark  obscurity?         760 
If  so,  the  world  will  hold  thee  in  disdain, 
Sith  in  thy  pride  so  fair  a  hope  is  slain. 

743.  "imposthumes";  Qq.,  "impostumes." — I.  G. 
51 


Venus  and  Adonis  POEMS 

'So  in  thyself  thyself  art  made  away; 

A  mischief  worse  than  civil  home-bred  strife, 

Or  theirs  whose  desperate  hands  themselves  do  slay, 

Or  butcher-sire  that  reaves  his  son  of  life. 

Foul  cankering  rust  the  hidden  treasure  frets, 
But  gold  that 's  put  to  use  more  gold  begets/ 


'Nay,  then/  quoth  Adon,  'you  will  fall  again 
Into  your  idle  over-handled  theme:  770 

The  kiss  I  gave  you  is  bestow'd  in  vain, 
And  all  in  vain  you  strive  against  the  stream; 

For,  by  this  black-faced  night,  desire's  foul 

nurse, 

iYour  treatise  makes  me  like  you  worse  and 
worse. 

'If  love  have  lent  you  twenty  thousand  tongues, 
And  every  tongue  more  moving  than  your  own, 
Bewitching  like  the  wanton  mermaid's  songs, 
Yet  from  mine  ear  the  tempting  tune  is  blown; 
For  know,  my  heart  stands  armed  in  mine  ear, 
And  will  not  let  a  false  sound  enter  there;    780 

'Lest  the  deceiving  harmony  should  run 

Into  the  quiet  closure  of  my  breast ; 

And  then  my  little  heart  were  quite  undone, 

In  his  bedchamber  to  be  barr'd  of  rest. 

No,  lady,  no ;  my  heart  longs  not  to  groan, 
But  soundly  sleeps,  while  now  it  sleeps  alone. 

781.  "run";  Q.  1,  2,  3,  "ronne"  (rhyming  with  "undone") .—I.  G. 

52 


POEMS  Venus  and  Adonis 

[What  have  you  urged  that  I  cannot  reprove? 
•The  path  is  smooth  that  leadeth  on  to  danger : 
It  hate  not  love,  but  your  device  in  love 
(That  lends  embracements  unto  every  stranger.    790 
You  do  it  for  increase :  O  strange  excuse, 
When  reason  is  the  bawd  to  lust's  abuse ! 


Call  it  not  love,  for  Love  to  heaven  is  fled 
Since  sweating  Lust  on  earth  usurp'd  his  name; 
Jnder  whose  simple  semblance  he  hath  fed 
Jpon  fresh  beauty,  blotting  it  with  blame ; 

Which  the  hot  tyrant  stains  and  soon  bereaves, 
As  caterpillars  do  the  tender  leaves. 


Love  comf orteth  like  sunshine  after  rain, 
?ut  Lust's  effect  is  tempest  after  sun;  800 

Love's  gentle  spring  doth  always  fresh  remain, 
just's  winter  comes  ere  summer  half  be  done ; 

Love  surfeits  not,  Lust  like  a  glutton  dies ; 

Love  is  all  truth,  Lust  full  of  forged  lies. 


More  I  could  tell,  but  more  I  dare  not  say; 

The  text  is  old,  the  orator  too  green. 

Therefore,  in  sadness,  now  I  will  away; 

My  face  is  full  of  shame,  my  heart  of  teen : 

Mine  ears,  that  to  your  wanton  talk  attended, 
Do  burn  themselves  for  having  so  offended.' 

787.  f'reprove";  refute.— C.  H.  H. 
53 


Venue  and  Adonis  POEMS 

With  this,  he  breaketh  from  the  sweet  embrace  811 
Of  those  fair  arms  which  bound  him  to  her  breast, 
And  homeward  through  the  dark  lawnd  runs  apace ; 
Leaves  Love  upon  her  back  deeply  distress'd. 

Look,  how  a  bright  star  shooteth  from  the  sky, 
So  glides  he  in  the  night  from  Venus'  eye: 


Which  after  him  she  darts,  as  one  on  shore 
Gazing  upon  a  late-embarked  friend, 
Till  the  wild  waves  will  have  him  seen  no  more, 
Whose  ridges  with  the  meeting  clouds  contend:  820 
So  did  the  merciless  and  pitchy  night 
Fold  in  the  object  that  did  feed  her  sight. 


Whereat  amazed,  as  one  that  unaware 
Hath  dropp'd  a  precious  jewel  in  the  flood, 
Or  'stonish'd  as  night-wanderers  often  are, 
Their  light  blown  out  in  some  mistrustful  wood; 
Even  so  confounded  in  the  dark  she  lay, 
Having  lost  the  fair  discovery  of  her  way. 


And  now  she  beats  her  heart,  whereat  it  groans, 
That  all  the  neighbor  caves,  as  seeming  troubled,  830 
Make  verbal  repetition  of  her  moans; 
Passion  on  passion  deeply  is  redoubled: 

'Ay  me!'  she  cries,  and  twenty  times,  'Woe, 
woe !' 

And  twenty  echoes  twenty  times  cry  so. 

932.  "deeply";  S.  Walker  conj.  "doubly."— I.  G. 

54 


POEMS  Venus  and  Adonis 

She,  marking  them,  begins  a  wailing  note, 

And  sings  extemporally  a  woeful  ditty; 

How  love  makes  young  men  thrall,  and  old  men 
dote; 

How  love  is  wise  in  folly,  foolish-witty: 

Her  heavy  anthem  still  concludes  in  woe, 
And  still  the  choir  of  echoes  answer  so.       840 


Her  song  was  tedious,  and  outwore  the  night, 
For  lovers'  hours  are  long,  though  seeming  short: 
If  pleased  themselves,  others,  they  think,  delight 
In  such-like  circumstance,  with  such-like  sport: 
Their  copious  stories,  oftentimes  begun, 
End  without  audience,  and  are  never  done. 

For  who  hath  she  to  spend  the  night  withal, 

But  idle  sounds  resembling  parasites; 

Like  shrill-tongued  tapsters  answering  every  call, 

Soothing  the  humor  of  fantastic  wits?  850 

She  says  "Tis  so:'  they  answer  all  "Tis  so;' 
And  would  say  after  her,  if  she  said  'No.' 

Lo,  here  the  gentle  lark,  weary  of  rest, 
From  his  moist  cabinet  mounts  up  on  high, 
And  wakes  the  morning,  from  whose  silver  breast 
The  sun  ariseth  in  his  majesty; 

Who  doth  the  world  so  gloriously  behold, 
That  cedar-tops  and  hills  seem  burnish'd  gold. 

837.  "thrall";  enslaved.— C.  H.  H. 
854.  "cabinet";  little  cabin.— C.  H.  H. 
55 


Venus  and  Adonis  POEMS 

Venus  salutes  him  with  this  fair  good-morrow : 
'O  thou  clear  god,  and  patron  of  all  light,  860 

From  whom  each  lamp  and  shining  star  doth  borrow 
The  beauteous  influence  that  makes  him  bright, 

There  lives  a  son,  that  suck'd  an  earthly  moth- 
er, 

May  lend  thee  light,  as  thou  dost  lend  to  other/ 


This  said,  she  hasteth  to  a  myrtle  grove, 
Musing  the  morning  is  so  much  o'erworn, 
And  yet  she  hears  no  tidings  of  her  love : 
She  hekrkens  for  his  hounds  and  for  his  horn: 
Anon  she  hears  them  chant  it  lustily, 
And  all  in  haste  she  coasteth  to  the  cry.        870 


And  as  she  runs,  the  bushes  in  the  way 
Some  catch  her  by  the  neck,  some  kiss  her  face, 
Some  twine  about  her  thigh  to  make  her  stay : 
She  wildly  breaketh  from  their  strict  embrace, 

Like  a  milch  doe,  whose  swelling  dugs  do  ache, 
Hasting  to  feed  her  fawn  hid  in  some  brake. 


By  this  she  hears  the  hounds  are  at  a  bay; 
iWhereat  she  starts,  like  one  that  spies  an  adder 
Wreathed  up  in  fatal  folds  just  in  his  way, 
The  fear  whereof  doth  make  him  shake  and  shud- 
der; 880 
Even  so  the  timorous  yelping  of  the  hounds 
Appals  her  senses  and  her  spirit  confounds. 

56 


POEMS  Venus  and  Adonis 

For  now  she  knows  it  is  no  gentle  chase, 
But  the  blunt  boar,  rough  bear,  or  lion  proud, 
Because  the  cry  remaineth  in  one  place, 
Where  fearfully  the  dogs  exclaim  aloud: 
Finding  their  enemy  to  be  so  curst, 
They  all  strain  courtesy  who  shall  cope  him 
first. 

This  dismal  cry  rings  sadly  in  her  ear, 
Through  which  it  enters  to  surprise  her  heart;     890 
Who,  overcome  by  doubt  and  bloodless  fear, 
With  cold-pale  weakness  numbs  each  feeling  part: 

Like  soldiers,  when  their  captain  once  doth 
yield, 

They  basely  fly,  and  dare  not  stay  the  field. 

Thus  stands  she  in  a  trembling  ecstasy; 
Till,  cheering  up  her  senses  all  dismay'd, 
She  tells  them  'tis  a  causeless  fantasy, 
And  childish  error,  that  they  are  afraid ; 

Bids  them  leave  quaking,  bids  them  fear  no 
more: 

And  with  that  word  she  spied  the  hunted  boar; 

Whose  frothy  mouth,  bepainted  all  with  red,      901 
Like  milk  and  blood  being  mingled  both  together, 
A  second  fear  through  all  her  sinews  spread, 
Which  madly  hurries  her  she  knows  not  whither : 

This  way  she  runs,  and  now  she  will  no  fur- 
ther, 

But  back  retires  to  rate  the  boar  for  murther. 

902.  "together";  Qq.,  "togither"  (rhyming  with  "whither");  sp.  L 
971 ;  Q.  i,  2,  3,  "all  together"  (rhyming  with  "weather") ;  Q.  4,  "alto- 
gither."—l.  G. 

-5.7 


Venus  and  Adonis  POEM! 

A  thousand  spleens  bear  her  a  thousand  ways ; 

She  treads  the  path  that  she  untreads  again; 

Her  more  than  haste  is  mated  with  delays, 

Like  the  proceedings  of  a  drunken  brain,  91 

Full  of  respects,  yet  not  at  all  respecting : 
In  hand  with  all  things,  nought  at  all  effecting 


Here  kennell'd  in  a  brake  she  finds  a  hound, 
And  asks  the  weary  caitiff  for  his  master; 
And  there  another  licking  of  his  wound, 
'Gainst  venom'd  sores  the  only  sovereign  plaster; 
And  here  she  meets  another  sadly  scowling, 
To  whom  she  speaks,  and  he  replies  with  howl 
ing. 

When  he  hath  ceased  his  ill-resounding  noise, 
Another  flap-mouth' d  mourner,  black  and  grim,  92C 
Against  the  welkin  volleys  out  his  voice; 
Another  and  another  answer  him, 

Clapping  their  proud  tales  to  the  ground  be- 
low, 

Shaking  their  scratch'd  ears,  bleeding  as  the 
go. 

Look,  how  the  world's  poor  people  are  amazed 

At  apparitions,  signs  and  prodigies, 

Whereon  with  fearful  eyes  they  long  have  gazed, 

Infusing  them  with  dreadful  prophecies; 

So  she  at  these  sad  signs  draws  up  her  breath, 
And,  sighing  it  again,  exclaims  on  Death.  931 

58 


POEMS  Venus  and  Adonis 

'Hard-f avor'd  tyrant,  ugly,  meager,  lean, 
Hateful  divorce  of  love,' — thus  chides  she  Death, — 
'Grim-grinning  ghost,  earth's  worm,  what  dost  thou 

mean 
To  stifle  beauty  and  to  steal  his  breath, 

Who  when  he  lived,  his  breath  and  beauty  set 
Gloss  on  the  rose,  smell  to  the  violet? 

'If  he  be  dead, — O  no,  it  cannot  be, 

Seeing  his  beauty,  thou  shouldst  strike  at  it; — 

O  yes,  it  may ;  thou  hast  no  eyes  to  see, 

But  hatefully  at  random  dost  thou  hit.  940 

Thy  mark  is  feeble  age;  but  thy  false  dart 
Mistakes  that  aim,  and  cleaves  an  infant's 
heart. 

'Hadst  thou  but  bid  beware,  then  he  had  spoke, 

!And,  hearing  him,  thy  power  had  lost  his  stroke; 

The  Destinies  will  curse  thee  for  this  stroke ; 

They  bid  thee  crop  a  weed,  thou  pluck'st  a  flower: 
Love's  golden  arrow  at  him  should  have  fled, 
And  not  Death's  ebon  dart,  to  strike  him  dead. 

'Dost  thou  drink  tears,  that  thou  provokest  such 

weeping? 

What  may  a  heavy  groan  advantage  thee?          950 
Why  hast  thou  cast  into  eternal  sleeping 
Those  eyes  that  taught  all  other  eyes  to  see? 

Now  Nature  cares  not  for  thy  mortal  vigor, 
Since  her  best  work  is  ruin'd  with  thy  rigor/ 

940.  "random"    Qq.  1-4,  "randon."—!.  G. 
59 


Venus  and  Adonis  POEMS 

Here  overcome,  as  one  full  of  despair, 
She  vail'd  her  eyelids,  who,  like  sluices,  stopp'd 
The  crystal  tide  that  from  her  two  cheeks  fair 
In  the  sweet  channel  of  her  bosom  dropp'd; 

But  through  the  flood-gates  breaks  the  silver 
rain,  959 

And  with  his  strong  course  opens  them  again. 

O,  how  her  eyes  and  tears  did  lend  and  borrow! 
Her  eye  seen  in  the  tears,  tears  in  her  eye ; 
Both  crystals,  where  they  view'd  each  other's  sor- 
row, 

Sorrow  that  friendly  sighs  sought  still  to  dry; 
But  like  a  stormy  day,  now  wind,  now  rain, 
Sighs  dry  her  cheeks,  tears  make  them  we* 
again. 

Variable  passions  throng  her  constant  woe, 

As  striving  who  should  best  become  her  grief ; 

All  entertain'd,  each  passion  labors  so 

That  every  present  sorrow  seemeth  chief,  970 

But  none  is  best:  then  join  they  all  together, 
Like  many  clouds  consulting  for  foul  weather. 

By  this,  far  off  she  hears  some  huntsman  holloa; 

A  nurse's  song  ne'er  pleased  her  babe  so  well: 

The  dire  imagination  she  did  follow 

This  sound  of  hope  doth  labor  to  expel; 
For  now  reviving  joy  bids  her  rejoice, 
And  flatters  her  it  is  Adonis'  voice. 
60 


POEMS  Venus  and  Adonis 

Whereat  her  tears  began  to  turn  their  tide, 
Being  prison'd  in  her  eye  like  pearls  in  glass:      980 
Yet  sometimes  falls  an  orient  drop  beside, 
Which  her  cheek  melts,  as  scorning  it  should  pass 
To  wash  the  foul  face  of  the  sluttish  ground, 
Who  is  but  drunken  when  she  seemeth  drown'd. 

O  hard-believing  love,  how  strange  it  seems 

Not  to  believe,  and  yet  too  credulous ! 

Thy  weal  and  woe  are  both  of  them  extremes ; 

Despair,  and  hope,  makes  thee  ridiculous: 

The  one  doth  flatter  thee  in  thoughts  unlikely, 
In  likely  thoughts  the  other  kills  thee  quickly. 

Now  she  unweaves  the  web  that  she  hath  wrought; 
Adonis  lives,  and  Death  is  not  to  blame;  992 

It  was  not  she  that  call'd  him  all  to  nought : 
Now  she  adds  honors  to  his  hateful  name; 

She  clepes  him  king  of  graves,  and  grave  for 
kings, 

Imperious  supreme  of  all  mortal  things. 

'No,  no,'  quoth  she,  'sweet  Death,  I  did  but  jest; 
Yet  pardon  me,  I  felt  a  kind  of  fear 
When  as  I  met  the  boar,  that  bloody  beast, 
Which  knows  no  pity,  but  is  still  severe ;  1000 

Then,  gentle  shadow, — truth  I  must  confess, — 
I  rail'd  on  thee,  fearing  my  love's  decease. 

988.  "makes";  the  singular  is  accurate;  for  it  is  the  rapid  inter- 
change of  despair  and  hope,  not  their  separate  actions,  which  pro- 
duces this  effect.— C.  H.  H. 

993.  "all  to  nought"  (rhyming  with  "wrought") ;  Dyce,  "ail-to 
naught";  Delius,  ffall-to  naught." — I.  G. 

1009.  "decease";  early  Qq.,  "decesse"  (rhyming  with  "confess").-* 
I.  G. 

61 


Venus  and  Adonis  POEMS 

°Tis  not  my  fault :  the  boar  provoked  my  tongue; 

Be  wreak'd  on  him,  invisible  commander; 

'Tis  he,  foul  creature,  that  hath  done  thee  wrong; 

I  did  but  act,  he  's  author  of  thy  slander : 

Grief  hath  two  tongues ;  and  never  woman  yet 
Could  rule  them  both  without  ten  women's  wit.' 


Thus  hoping  that  Adonis  is  alive, 
Her  rash  suspect  she  doth  extenuate;  1010 

And  that  his  beauty  may  the  better  thrive, 
With  Death  she  humbly  doth  insinuate; 

Tells  him  of  trophies,  statues,  tombs,  and  sto- 
ries 

His  victories,  his  triumphs  and  his  glories. 

*O  Jove,'  quoth  she,  'how  much  a  fool  was  I 
To  be  of  such  a  weak  and  silly  mind 
To  wail  his  death  who  lives  and  must  not  die 
Till  mutual  overthrow  of  mortal  kind! 

For  he  being  dead,  with  him  is  beauty  slain, 
And,  beauty  dead,  black  chaos  comes  again. 

Tie,  fie,  fond  love,  thou  art  so  full  of  fear         1021 

As  one  with  treasure  laden,  hemm'd  with  thieves ; 

Trifles  unwitnessed  with  eye  or  ear 

Thy  coward  heart  with  false  bethinking  grieves/ 
Even  at  this  word  she  hears  a  merry  horn, 
Whereat  she  leaps  that  was  but  late  forlorn. 

1013-1014.  "stories  His";  Theobald's  conjecture;  Qq.,  "stories,  His.9 
— LG. 

62 


POEMS  Venus  and  Adonis 

As  falcons  to  the  lure,  away  she  flies ; 
The  grass  stoops  not,  she  treads  on  it  so  light; 
And  in  her  haste  unfortunately  spies 
The  foul  boar's  conquest  on  her  fair  delight ;      1030 
Which  seen,  her  eyes,  as  murder'd  with  the 

view, 

Like  stars  ashamed  of  day,  themselves  with- 
drew; 

Or,  as  the  snail,  whose  tender  horns  being  hit, 
Shrinks  backward  in  his  shelly  cave  with  pain, 
And  there  all  smother'd  up  in  shade  doth  sit, 
Long  after  fearing  to  creep  forth  again ; 
So,  at  his  bloody  view,  her  eyes  are  fled 
Into  the  deep-dark  cabins  of  her  head: 

Where  they  resign  their  office  and  their  light 
To  the  disposing  of  her  troubled  brain ;  1040 

Who  bids  them  still  consort  with  ugly  night, 
And  never  wound  the  heart  with  looks  again; 
Who,  like  a  king  perplexed  in  his  throne, 
By  their  suggestion  gives  a  deadly  groan, 

Whereat  each  tributary  subject  quakes; 
As  when  the  wind,  imprison'd  in  the  ground, 
Struggling  for  passage,  earth's  foundation  shakes, 
Which  with  cold  terror  doth  men's  minds  confound. 
This  mutiny  each  part  doth  so  surprise, 
That  from  their  dark  beds  once  more  leap  her 
eyes;  1050 

1041.  "ugly";  Q.  1,  "ouffly."—!.  G. 
63 


Venub  and  Adonis  POEMS 

And  being  open'd  threw  unwilling  light 

Upon  the  wide  wound  that  the  boar  had  trench'd 

In  his  soft  flank;  whose  wonted  lily  white 

With   purple   tears,    that   his    wound   wept,    was 

drench'd: 
No  flower  was  nigh,  no  grass,  herb,  leaf  or 

weed, 

But  stole  his  blood  and  seem'd  with  him  to 
bleed. 

This  solemn  sympathy  poor  Venus  noteth; 
Over  one  shoulder  doth  she  hang  her  head ; 
Dumbly  she  passions,  franticly  she  doteth; 
She  thinks  he  could  not  die,  he  is  not  dead:  1060 

Her  voice  is  stopp'd,  her  joints  forget  to  bow; 

Her  eyes  are  mad  that  they  have  wept  till  now. 

Upon  his  hurt  she  looks  so  steadfastly 

That  her  sight  dazzling  makes  the  wound  seem 

three ; 

And  then  she  reprehends  her  mangling  eye, 
That  makes  more  gashes  where  no  breach  should  be : 
His  face  seems  twain,  each  several  limb  is  dou- 
bled; 

For  oft  the  eye  mistakes,  the  brain  being  trou- 
bled. 

"My  tongue  cannot  express  my  grief  for  one, 
And  yet,'  quoth  she,  'behold  two  Adons  dead!  1070 
My  sighs  are  blown  away,  my  salt  tears  gone, 

1067.  "limb";  Qq.,  "Urn."— I.  G. 
64 


POEMS  Venus  and  Adonis 

Mine  eyes  are  turn'd  to  fire,  my  heart  to  lead: 

Heavy  heart's  lead,  melt  at  mine  eyes'  red  fire  I 
So  shall  I  die  by  drops  of  hot  desire. 

'Alas,  poor  world,  what  treasure  hast  thou  lostl 
What  face  remains  alive  that 's  worth  the  viewing? 
Whose  tongue  is  music  now?  what  canst  thou  boast 
Of  things  long  since,  or  any  thing  ensuing? 

The  flowers  are  sweet,  their  colors  fresh  and 
trim;  1079 

9But  true-sweet  beauty  lived  and  died  with  him. 

'Bonnet  nor  veil  henceforth  no  creature  wear! 

Nor  sun  nor  wind  will  ever  strive  to  kiss  you: 

Having  no  fair  to  lose,  you  need  not  fear ; 

The  sun  doth  scorn  you,  and  the  wind  doth  hiss  you: 
But  when  Adonis  lived,  sun  and  sharp  air 
Lurk'd  like  two  thieves,  to  rob  him  of  his  fair* 

"And  therefore  would  he  put  his  bonnet  on, 
Under  whose  brim  the  gaudy  sun  would  peep ; 
The  wind  would  blow  it  off ,  and,  being  gone, 
Play  with  his  locks :  then  would  Adonis  weep ;  1090 
And  straight,  in  pity  of  his  tender  years, 
They  both  would  strive  who  first  should  dry 
his  tears. 

'To  see  his  face  the  lion  walk'd  along 

Behind  some  hedge,  because  he  would  not  fear  him; 

To  recreate  himself  when  he  hath  sung, 

The  tiger  would  be  tame  and  gently  hear  him; 

If  he  had  spoke,  the  wolf  would  leave  his  prey, 
And  never  fright  the  silly  lamb  that  day. 

XXXIX— 5  6s 


Venus  and  Adonis  POEMS 

'When  he  beheld  his  shadow  in  the  brook, 
The  fishes  spread  on  it  their  golden  gills;  1100 

When  he  was  by,  the  birds  such  pleasure  took, 
That  some  would  sing,  some  other  in  their  bills 
,     Would  bring  him  mulberries  and  ripe-red  cher-» 

ries ; 

He  fed  them  with  his  sight,  they  him  with  ber- 
ries. 

'But  this  foul,  grim,  and  urchin-snouted  boar, 
Whose  downward  eye  still  looketh  for  a  grave, 
Ne'er  saw  the  beauteous  livery  that  he  wore; 
Witness  the  entertainment  that  he  gave : 
If  he  did  see  his  face,  why  then  I  know 
He  thought  to  kiss  him,  and  hath  kill'd  him  so. 

°Tis  true,  'tis  true;  thus  was  Adonis  slain:          HH 
He  ran  upon  the  boar  with  his  sharp  spear, 
Who  did  not  whet  his  teeth  at  him  again, 
But  by  a  kiss  thought  to  persuade  him  there; 
And  nuzzling  in  his  flank,  the  loving  swine 
Sheathed  unaware  the  tusk  in  his  soft  groin. 

'Had  I  been  tooth'd  like  him,  I  must  confess, 

With  kissing  him  I  should  have  kilFd  him  first; 

But  he  is  dead,  and  never  did  he  bless 

My  youth  with  his;  the  more  am  I  accurst.'        1120 
With  this,  she  f  alleth  in  the  place  she  stood, 
And  stains  her  face  with  his  congealed  blood. 

1108.  "entertainment";  usage. — C.  H.  H. 
1117.  "been";  Q.  1,  "bin."— I.  G 
66 


POEMS  Venus  and  Adonis 

She  looks  upon  his  lips,  and  they  are  pale; 

She  takes  him  by  the  hand,  and  that  is  cold; 

She  whispers  in  his  ears  a  heavy  tale, 

As  if  they  heard  the  woeful  words  she  told; 
She  lifts  the  coffer-lids  that  close  his  eyes, 
Where,  lo,  two  lamps,  burnt  out,  in  darkness 
lies  ; 

Two  glasses,  where  herself  herself  beheld 
A  thousand  times,  and  now  no  more  reflect;      1130 
Their  virtue  lost,  wherein  they  late  excelled, 
And  every  beauty  robb'd  of  his  effect: 

'Wonder  of  time,'  quoth  she,  'this  is  my  spite, 
That,  thou  being  dead,  the  day  should  yet  be 
light. 

'Since  thou  art  dead,  lo,  here  I  prophesy, 
Sorrow  on  love  hereafter  shall  attend: 
It  shall  be  waited  on  with  jealousy, 
Find  sweet  beginning  but  unsavory  end  ; 
Ne'er  settled  equally,  but  high  or  low, 
That  all  love's  pleasure  shall  not  match  his  woe. 


'It  shall  be  fickle,  false  and  full  of  fraud; 

Bud,  and  be  blasted,  in  a  breathing-while; 

The  bottom  poison,  and  the  top  o'erstraw'd 

With  sweets  that  shall  the  truest  sight  beguile  : 
The  strongest  body  shall  it  make  most  weak, 
Strike  the  wise  dumb,  and  teach  the  fool  to 
speak, 

1133.  "spite";  grievance.—  €.  H.  H. 
67 


Venus  and  Adonis  POEMS; 

'It  shall  be  sparing  and  too  full  of  riot, 
Teaching  decrepit  age  to  tread  the  measures; 
The  staring  ruffian  shall  it  keep  in  quiet, 
Pluck  down  the  rick,  enrich  the  poor  with  treasures ; 
It  shall  be  raging-mad,  and  silly-mild,        H51 
Make  the  young  old,  the  old  become  a  child. 

'It  shall  suspect  where  is  no  cause  of  fear ; 

It  shall  not  fear  where  it  should  most  mistrust; 

It  shall  be  merciful  and  too  severe, 

And  most  deceiving  when  it  seems  most  just; 

Perverse  it  shall  be  where  it  shows  most  toward, 
Put  fear  to  valor,  courage  to  the  coward. 

'It  shall  be  cause  of  war  and  dire  events, 

And  set  dissension  'twixt  the  son  and  sire;          1160 

Subject  and  servile  to  all  discontents, 

As  dry  combustious  matter  is  to  fire : 

Sith  in  his  prime  death  doth  my  love  destroy 
They  that  love  best  their  loves  shall  not  enjoy.' 

By  this  the  boy  that  by  her  side  lay  kill'd 
Was  melted  like  a  vapor  from  her  sight, 
And  in  his  blood,  that  on  the  ground  lay  spill'd, 
A  purple  flower  sprung  up,  chequer'd  with  white, 
Resembling  well  his  pale  cheeks  and  the  blood 
Which  in  round  drops  upon  their  whiteness 
stood.  1170 

1155.  "severe";  early  Qq.,  "seveare"  (rhyming  with  "fear").— I.  G. 

1161.  "servile";  Q.  1,  2,  "seruill";  cp.  line  392,  "servilely";  Q.  1,  2, 
3,  "seruilly."—!.  G. 

1168.  "A  purple  flower  .  .  .  chequer'd  with  white";  Bion  had 
said  that  Adonis'  blood  sprang  up  in  the  rose,  his  tears  in  the 
anemone. — C.  H.  H. 

68 


POEMS  Venus  and  Adonis 

She  bows  her  head,  the  new-sprung  flower  to  smell, 

Comparing  it  to  her  Adonis'  breath; 

And  says,  within  her  bosom  it  shall  dwell, 

Since  he  himself  is  reft  from  her  by  death: 

She  crops  the  stalk,  and  in  the  breach  appears 
Green-dropping  sap,  which  she  compares  to 
tears. 


'Poor  flower,'   quoth  she,   'this  was  thy  father's 
guise — 

Sweet  issue  of  a  more  sweet-smelling  sire — 

For  every  little  grief  to  wet  his  eyes : 

To  grow  unto  himself  was  his  desire,  1180 

And  so  'tis  thine ;  but  know,  it  is  as  good 
To  wither  in  my  breast  as  in  his  blood. 

'Here  was  thy  father's  bed,  here  in  my  breast; 

Thou  art  the  next  of  blood,  and  'tis  thy  right: 

Lo,  in  this  hollow  cradle  take  thy  rest; 

My  throbbing  heart  shall  rock  thee  day  and  night: 
There  shall  not  be  one  minute  in  an  hour 
Wherein  I  will  not  kiss  my  sweet  love's  flower/ 

Thus  weary  of  the  world,  away  she  hies, 
And  yokes  her  silver  doves ;  by  whose  swift  aid  H9Q 
Their  mistress,  mounted,  through  the  empty  skies 
In  her  light  chariot  quickly  is  convey 'd ; 

Holding  their  course  to  Paphos,  where  their 

queen 

Means  to  immure  herself  and  not  be  seen. 
69 


THE  PASSIONATE  PILGRIM 


PREFACE 

By  ISRAEL  GOLLANCZ,  M.A. 

EARLY    EDITIONS 

The  Passionate  Pilgrim  was  first  printed  in  1599,  with 
the  following  title  :  — 

"THE  |  PASSIONATE  |  PILGRIME.  |  By  W.  Shake- 
speare. |  AT  LONDON  \  Printed  for  W.  Jaggard,  and 
are  |  to  be  sold  by  W.  Leake,  at  the  Grey-  |  hound  in  Paules 
Churchyard.  |  1599."  x 

In  the  middle  of  sheet  C  2  is  a  second  title:  —  "SONNETS 
|  To  sundry  notes  of  Musicke." 

In  161&  an  edition  was  issued  augmented  by  the  addi- 
tion of  some  poems  by  Thomas  Heywood,  "two  love-epis- 
tles, the  first  from  Paris  to  Hellen,  and  Hellenes  answei 
back  again  to  Paris,"  and  the  whole  were  attributed  to 
Shakespeare.  The  issue  is  described  as  "the  third  edition" 
on  the  title-page,  but  no  second  edition  has  been  traced. 

In  deference  to  a  protest  on  Heywood'  s  part,3  the  pirat- 
ical publisher  cancelled  the  first  title-page,  and  substituted 
a  second,  omitting  Shakespeare's  name;  the  Bodleian  copy 


.  Fac-simile  edition  among  Dr.  FurnivalFs  Quarto-Fac-similes; 
also  Charles  Edmond's  reprint  of  the  Isham  copy,  discovered  in 
1867;  these  and  the  "Capell"  copy  are  the  only  copies  known. 

2f.  e.  before  the  song  beginning  with  "It  was  a  lordling's  daugh- 
ter," etc. 

3  In  the  postscript  to  the  Apology  for  Actors,  1612,  Heywood 
wrote:  —  "Here,  likewise,  I  must  necessarily  insert  a  manifest  injury 
done  me  in  that  work  (viz.  the  Troia  Britannica,  published  in  1609), 
by  taking  the  two  epistles  of  Paris  to  Helen,  and  Helen  to  Paris, 
and  printing  them  in  a  less  volume  under  the  name  of  another,  which 
may  put  the  world  in  opinion  I  might  steal  them  from  him,  and  he 
to  do  himself  right,  hath  since  published  them  in  his  own  name;  but, 
12  J  73 


The  Passionate  Pilgrim  POEMS 

(formerly  the  property  of  Malone)  has  the  two  title-pages, 
the  original  one  being  left  by  some  inadvertence. 

In  1640  a  new  edition,  with  much  additional  matter,  alto- 
gether un-Shakespearean,  was  issued  as  Poems:  written  by 
WU.  Shake-speare,  Gent. 

THE  CONTENTS  OF  THE  VOLUME 

The  Passionate  Pilgrim  has  aptly  been  described  as  a 
"rag-picker's  bag  of  stolen  goods."  Like  many  another 
pirate-publisher,  Jaggard  must  needs  issue  a  book  purport- 
ing to  be  by  the  author  of  the  hour:  by  some  underhand 
means  he  obtained  transcripts  more  or  less  correct  of  "the 
sugar'd  sonnets,"  referred  to  by  Francis  Meres;  he  con- 
veyed three  pieces  from  the  printed  text  of  Love's  Labor's 
Lost;  1  to  these  genuine  Shakespearean  articles  he  added 
sundry  songs  and  sonnets,  some  by  well-known  authors  of 
the  day,  some  by  obscure  poetasters,  some  perhaps  manu- 
factured to  order,  so  as  to  give  a  Shakespearean  color- 
ing to  the  volume ;  possibly  one  or  two  fragments  of  true 
metal  may  have  been  preserved  in  the  miscellaneous  collec- 
tion. 

THE    IDENTIFICATION    OF    THE    POEMS 

I— II.  Shakespeare's  Sonnets,  138  and  144  (with  various 
readings  ) . 

as  I  must  acknowledge  my  lines  not  worthy  his  patronage  under  whom 
he  hath  published  them,  so  the  author,  I  know  was  much  offended  with 
Mr.  Jaggard  that  (altogether  unknown  to  him)  presumed  to  make 
so  bold  with  his  name. 

1  The  many  variant  readings  in  the  Shakespearean  portions  of  the 
collection  were  probably  due  in  some  cases  to  Jaggard's  editor,  in 
others  to  incorrect  transcripts.  An  instance  of  the  former  is  per- 
haps to  be  found  in  the  last  line  of  V,  where  the  play  reads,  "That 
sings  heaven's  praise,"  etc.  It  will  be  remembered  that  Holofernes 
chides  Nathaniel  for  not  finding  the  apostrophas,  and  so  missing  the 
accent:  "let  me  supervise  the  canzonet."  Had  Jaggard  properly  su- 
pervised it,  he  would,  I  think,  have  read  "That  singes"  instead  of  "Te 
sing."  Some  of  the  changes  in  the  Sonnets  may  have  been  intentional 
for  the  purpose  of  obscuring  references  to  the  person  alluded  to. 

74 


POEMS  The  Passionate  Pilgrim 

III.  Longaville's    Sonnet   to    Maria   in   Love's   Labor's 
Lost. 

IV.  (?)  Shakespeare's  (on  Venus  and  Adonis). 

V.  From  Love's  Labor's  Lost. 

VI.  (?)  Shakespeare's  (on  Venus  and  Adonis). 

VII.  (?)  Shakespeare's. 

VIII.  Probably  by  Richard  Barnfield,  in  whose  Poems  in 
Divers  Humors,  1598,  it  had  first  appeared. 

IX.  (?)  Shakespeare's  (on  Venus  and  Adonis). 

X.  Probably  not  Shakespeare's. 

XI.  Probably  by  Bartholomew  Griffin:  it  had  already 
appeared,  with  variations,  in   1596,  in  his  Fidessa  more 
Chaste  than  Kind. 

XII.  Probably  not  Shakespeare's. 

XIII.  Perhaps  by  the  author  of  X. 
XIV-XV.  Probably  not  Shakespeare's.1 

XVI.  Not  Shakespeare's. 

XVII.  Dumain's   Poem  to   Kate,  Love's  Labor's  Lost 
(IV,  iii). 

XVIII.  Found  in  Weekes's  Madrigals,   1597;   also  in 
England's   Helicon,    1600,   with   the   title   The    Unknown 
Shepherd's  Complaint,  and  subscribed  Ignoto   (probably 
printed  from  the  1599  volume).2 

XIX.  Doubtfully   Shakespeare's.     The  poem  strongly 
resembles  one  section  of  Wittobie's  Avisa*,  published  1594. 

XX.  By   Christopher  Marlowe.     The  Lover9 s  Answer, 
probably  by  Sir  Walter  Raleigh.     In  England's  Helicon 
the  poem  is  given  in  full.3 

Wrongly  printed  as  two  poems,  though  evidently  not  intended  as 
such  in  the  First  Edition. 

2  Cp.  Bullen's  edition  of  England's  Helicon,  p.  xxi.,  where  he  gives 
lis  opinion  in  favor  of  Barnfield's  authorship. 

3  Isaac  Walton's  well-known  reference  did  much  to  maintain  the 
fame  of  the  lyric: — "As  I  left  this  place,  and  entered  into  the  next 
field,  a  second  pleasure  entertained  me;  'twas  a  handsome  milkmaid: 
she  cast  away  all  care  and  sang  like  a  nightingale.     Her  voice  was 
good  and  the  ditty  fitted  for  it:  it  was  the  smooth  song  which  was 
made  by  Kit  Marlowe,  now  at  least  fifty  years  ago.     And  the  milk- 
maid's mother  sang  an  answer  to  it,  which  was  made  by  Sir  Walter 
Raleigh  in  his  young  days." 

75 


The  Passionate  Pilgrim  POEMS 

XXI.  By  Richard  Barnfield,  from  Poems  in  Divers  Hu- 
mours, 1598  (11.  1—28  found  also  in  "England's  Helicon," 
signed  "Ignoto"). 

"The  Passionate  Pilgrim"  belonged  in  reality  to  the 
poetical  miscellanies  so  popular  at  the  time;  it  deserved 
utter  failure  for  the  undue  liberty  it  had  taken  with  Shake- 
speare's great  name,  and  it  perhaps  deserved  the  almost 
too  severe  though  eloquent  censure  which  a  modern  poet, 
Mr.  Swinburne,  has  passed  upon  it.  When  the  genuine 
Shakespearean  pieces  have  been  taken  into  account,  "the 
rest  of  the  ragman's  gatherings,  with  three  most  notable 
exceptions,  is  little  better  for  the  most  part  than  dry  rub- 
bish or  disgusting  refuse.  ...  I  need  not  say  that 
those  three  exceptions  are  the  stolen  and  garbled  work  of 
Marlowe  and  of  Barnfield,  our  elder  Shelley  and  our  first- 
born Keats ;  the  singer  of  Cynthia  in  verse  well  worthy  of 
Endymion,  who  would  seem  to  have  died  as  a  poet  in  the 
same  fatal  year  of  his  age  that  Keats  died  as  a  man ;  the 
first  adequate  English  laureate  of  the  nightingale,  to  be 
supplanted  or  equalled  by  none  until  the  advent  of  his 
mightier  brother." 

".    .    .    Our  Poet,  him 
Whose  insight  makes  all  others  dim: 
A  thousand  poets  pried  at  life, 
And  only  one  amid  the  strife 
Rose  to  be  Shakespeare." 


INTRODUCTION 

By  HENRY  NORMAN  HUDSON,  A.M. 

"THE  PASSIONATE  PILGRIM,  by  W.  SHAKESPEARE.  At 
London:  Printed  for  W.  Jaggard,  and  are  to  be  sold  by 
W.  Leake,  at  the  Greyhound  in  Paul's  Church-yard, 
1599."  Such  is  the  title-page  of  a  16mo  volume  of  thirty 
leaves,  the  contents  of  which  are  the  same,  and  given  in  the 
same  order,  as  in  the  pages  following  this  Introduction. 
The  collection  was  reprinted  in  161£,  with  additions,  and 
with  a  new  title-pagfc  reading  thus :  "The  Passionate  Pil- 
grim ;  Or  certain  amorous  Sonnets,  between  Venus  and 
Adonis,  newly  corrected  and  augmented.  By  W.  Shake- 
speare. The  third  Edition:  Whereunto  is  newly  added 
two  Love-epistles,  the  first  from  Paris  to  Helen,  and  Helen's 
answer  back  again  to  Paris.  Printed  by  W.  Jaggard. 
1612."  In  some  copies  of  this  edition,  the  words,  "By  W. 
Shakespeare,"  are  omitted  from  the  title-page.  It  is  here 
called  "the  third  edition" ;  but  of  the  second,  if  there  were 
any,  as  there  may  have  been,  nothing  has  been  seen  in  mod- 
ern times. 

The  circumstances,  which  were  somewhat  peculiar,  at- 
tending the  issue  of  these  two  impressions,  are  thus  stated 
by  Mr.  Collier: 

"In  1598  Richard  Barnfield  put  his  name  to  a  small  col- 
lection of  productions  in  verse,  entitled  The  Encomion  of 
Lady  Pecunia,  which  contained  more  than  one  poem  at- 
tributed to  Shakespeare  in  The  Passionate  Pilgrim,  1699. 
The  first  was  printed  by  John,  and  the  last  by  William 
Jaggard.  Boswell  suggests,  that  John  Jaggard  in  1598 
might  have  stolen  Shakespeare's  verses,  and  attributed  them 
to  Barnfield;  but  the  answer  to  this  supposition  is  two- 

77 


The  Passionate  Pilgrim  POEMS 

fold:  First,  that  Barnfield  formally,  and  in  his  own  name, 
printed  them  as  his  in  1598 ;  and  next,  that  he  reprinted 
them  under  the  same  circumstances  in  1605,  notwithstand- 
ing they  had  been  in  the  meantime  assigned  to  Shake- 
speare. The  truth  seems  to  be,  that  W.  Jaggard  took 
them  in  1599  from  Barnfield's  publication,  printed  by 
John  Jaggard  in  1598.  In  1612  W.  Jaggard  went  even 
more  boldly  to  work ;  for  in  the  impression  of  The  Pas- 
sionate Pilgrim  of  that  year  he  not  only  repeated  Barn- 
field's  poems  of  1598,  but  included  two  of  Ovid's  Epistles, 
which  had  been  translated  by  Thomas  Heywood,  and 
printed  by  him  with  his  name  in  his  Troja  Britannlca, 
1609.  The  Epistles  were  made,  with  some  little  ambiguity, 
to  appear,  in  The  Passionate  Pilgrim  of  1612,  to  have 
been  also  the  work  of  Shakespeare.  When,  therefore, 
Heywood  published  his  next  work  in  1612,  he  exposed  the 
wrong  that  had  been  thus  done  to  him,  and  claimed  the 
performances  as  his  own.  He  seems  also  to  'have  taken 
steps  against  W.  Jaggard ;  for  the  latter  cancelled  the  title- 
page  of  The  Passionate  Pilgrim,  1612,  which  contained 
the  name  of  Shakespeare,  and  substituted  another  without 
any  name ;  so  far  discrediting  Shakespeare's  right  to  any 
of  the  poems  the  work  contained,  although  some  were  his 
beyond  any  dispute.  Malone's  copy  in  the  Bodleian  Li- 
bray  has  both  title-pages. 

"To  what  extent,  therefore,  we  may  accept  W.  Jag- 
gard's  assertion  of  the  authorship  of  Shakespeare  of  the 
poems  in  The  Passionate  Pilgrim,  is  a  question  of  some 
difficulty.  Two  Sonnets,  with  which  the  little  volume 
opens,  are  contained,  with  variations,  in  Thorpe's  edition 
of  Shakespeare's  Sonnets,  1609:  three  other  pieces,  also 
with  changes,  are  found  in  Love's  Labor's  Lost,  which  had 
been  printed  the  year  before  The  Passionate  Pilgrim 
originally  came  out:  another,  and  its  'answer*  notoriously 
belong  to  Marlowe  and  Raleigh:  a  Sonnet,  with  some 
slight  differences,  had  been  printed  as  his  in  1596,  by  a 
person  of  the  name  of  Griffin ;  while  one  production  ap- 

78 


POEMS  The  Passionate  Pilgrim 

peared  in  England's  Helicon  in  1600,  under  the  signature 
of  IgnotO'." 

There  is  no  need  of  dwelling  any  longer  here  on  the  sev- 
eral pieces  in  the  collection,  as  all  the  known  particulars  of 
any  consequence  respecting  them  will  be  stated  in  our  notes. 
It  may  be  worth  the  while  to  mention,  that  after  the  piece 
numbered  xv,  the  original  has  a  new  title-page  running 
as  follows:  "Sonnets  to  sundry  Notes  of  Music.  At 
London:  Printed  for  W.  Jaggard,  and  are  to  be  sold 
by  W.  Leake,  at  the  Greyhound  in  Paul's  Church-yard." 
From  which  it  would  seem  that  the  remaining  pieces  of 
the  collection  had  been  married  to  tunes,  for  the  delecta- 
tion of  music-loving  ears  in  the  squire's  hall  and  the  yeo- 
man's chimney-corner,  where  old  songs  were  wont  to  be 
sung.  It  is  said,  that  other  evidence  of  such  marriage  has 
descended  to  our  time.  Touching  the  merits  of  the  fol- 
lowing poems,  perhaps  the  less  said,  the  better.  Except- 
ing the  pieces  which  are  found  elsewhere  in  the  Poet's 
works,  and  excepting  the  last  piece,  which  relishes  some- 
what of  his  cunning  style,  they  might  well  enough  be 
spared  from  his  roll  of  authorship.  No  one,  however,  who 
rightly  understands  him,  would  willingly  be  without  a  sin- 
gle line  that  can  show  any  fair  credentials  of  having  been 
made  or  even  mended  by  him. 


THE  PASSIONATE  PILGRIM 


When  my  love  swears  that  she  is  made  of  truth, 
I  do  believe  her,  though  I  know  she  lies, 
That  she  might  think  me  some  untutor'd  youth, 
Unskillful  in  the  world's  false  forgeries. 
Thus  vainly  thinking  that  she  thinks  me  young, 
Although  I  know  my  years  be  past  the  best, 
I  smiling  credit  her  false-speaking  tongue, 
Outfacing  faults  in  love  with  love's  ill  rest. 
But  wherefore  says  my  love  that  she  is  young? 
And  wherefore  say  not  I  that  I  am  old?  1 

O,  love's  best  habit  is  a  soothing  tongue, 
And  age,  in  love,  loves  not  to  have  years  told. 
Therefore  I  '11  lie  with  love,  and  love  with  me, 
Since  that  our  faults  in  love  thus  smother'd  be. 


II 

Two  loves  I  have,  of  comfort  and  despair, 
That  like  two  spirits  do  suggest  me  still; 

I.  II.;  cp.  SONXETS,  cxxxviii.,  cxliv. — I.  G. 

II.  This   Sonnet   and  the  preceding,  which  were  printed  as  part 
of  the  Passionate  Pilgrim  in  1599,  were  also  included  as  the  cxxxviii. 
and  the  cxliv.  in  the  collection  of  Sonnets  published  in  1609.    The 
two  copies,  it  may  be  seen,  vary  somewhat  in  the  language;  which  is 
a  reason  for  retaining  them  here. — H.  N.  H. 

XXXIX— 6  81 


The  Passionate  Pilgrim  POEMS 

My  better  angel  is  a  man  right  fair, 

My  worser  spirit  a  woman  color'd  ill. 

To  win  me  soon  to  hell,  my  female  evil  5 

Tempteth  my  better  angel  from  my  side, 

And  would  corrupt  my  saint  to  be  a  devil, 

Wooing  his  purity  with  her  fair  pride. 

And  whether  that  my  angel  be  turn'd  fiend, 

Suspect  I  may,  yet  not  directly  tell:  10 

For  being  both  to  me,  both  to  each  friend, 

I  guess  one  angel  in  another's  hell: 

The  truth  I  shall  not  know,  but  live  in  doubt, 
Till  my  bad  angel  fire  my  good  one  out. 

Ill 

Did  not  the  heavenly  rhetoric  of  thine  eye, 
'Gainst  whom  the  world  could  not  hold  argument, 
Persuade  my  heart  to  this  false  perjury? 
Vows  for  thee  broke  deserve  not  punishment. 
A  woman  I  forswore;  but  I  will  prove,  5 

Thou  being  a  goddess,  I  forswore  not  thee: 
My  vow  was  earthly,  thou  a  heavenly  love; 
Thy  grace  being  gain'd  cures  all  disgrace  in  me. 
My  vow  was  breath,  and  breath  a  vapor  is ; 
Then,  thou  fair  sun,  that  on  this  earth  doth  shine,  10 
Exhale  this  vapor  vow;  in  thee  it  is: 
If  broken,  then  it  is  no  fault  of  mine. 
If  by  me  broke,  what  fool  is  not  so  wise 
To  break  an  oath,  to  win  a  paradise? 

III.  V.  XVII;  cp.  Love's  Labor's  Lost,  IV.  iii.  60-73;  IV.  ii.  109- 
122;  IV.  iii.  101-120.— I.  G. 

11.  "Exhale";  draw  up  (as  the  sun  draws  vapor  from  the  earth). 
— C.  H.  H. 


POEMS  The  Passionate  Pilgrim 

IV 

Sweet  Cytherea,  sitting  by  a  brook 

With  young  Adonis,  lovely,  fresh  and  green, 

Did  court  the  lad  with  many  a  lovely  look, 

Such  looks  as  none  could  look  but  beauty's  queen. 

She  told  him  stories  to  delight  his  ear,  5 

She  show'd  him  favors  to  allure  his  eye; 

To  win  his  heart,  she  touch'd  him  here  and  there; 

Touches  so  soft  still  conquer  chastity. 

But  whether  unripe  years  did  want  conceit, 

Or  he  refused  to  take  her  figured  proffer, 

The  tender  nibbler  would  not  touch  the  bait, 

But  smile  and  jest  at  every  gentle  offer: 

Then  fell  she  on  her  back,   fair  queen,   and 
toward : 

He  rose  and  ran  away ;  ah,  fool  too  f roward. 


If  love  make  me  forsworn,  how  shall  I  swear  to 

love? 

O  never  faith  could  hold,  if  not  to  beauty  vowed: 
Though  to  myself  forsworn,  to  thee  I  '11  constant 

prove ; 
Those  thoughts,  to  me  like  oaks,  to  thee  like  osiers 

bowed. 
Study  his  bias  leaves,  and  make  his  book  thine  eyes, 

IV.  Possibly  a  sonnet  of  Shakespeare  upon  Verms  and  Adonis,  as 
also  VI.  and  IX.— C.  H.  H. 

1.  "Cytherea";  Venus.— C.  H.  H. 

V.  This  Sonnet  also  occurs,  with  some  variations,  in  Love's  Labor's 
Lost,  Act  IV,  scene  ii.— H.  N.  H. 

S3 


The  Passionate  Pilgrim  POEMS 

Where  all  those  pleasures  live  that  art  can  compre- 
hend. 6 

If  knowledge  be  the  mark,  to  know  thee  shall  suf- 
fice; 

Well  learned  is  that  tongue  that  well  can  thee  com- 
mend: 

All  ignorant  that  soul  that  sees  thee  without  won- 
der; 

Which  is  to  me  some  praise,  that  I  thy  parts  ad- 
mire :  10 

Thine  eye  Jove's  lightning  seems,  thy  voice  his 
dreadful  thunder, 

Which,  not  to  anger  bent,  is  music  and  sweet  fire. 
Celestial  as  thou  art,  O  do  not  love  that  wrong, 
To  sing  heaven's  praise  with  such  an  earthly 
tongue. 

VI 

Scarce  had  the  sun  dried  up  the  dewy  morn, 

And  scarce  the  herd  gone  to  the  hedge  for  shade, 

When  Cytherea,  all  in  love  forlorn, 

A  longing  tarriance  for  Adonis  made 

Under  an  osier  growing  by  a  brook,  5 

A  brook  where  Adon  used  to  cool  his  spleen: 

Hot  was  the  day ;  she  hotter  that  did  look 

For  his  approach,  that  often  there  had  been. 

Anon  he  comes,  and  throws  his  mantle  by, 

And  stood  stark  naked  on  the  brook's  green  brim:  10 

The  sun  look'd  on  the  world  with  glorious  eye, 

Yet  not  so  wistly  as  this  queen  on  him. 

He,  spying  her,  bounced  in,  whereas  he  stood: 
'O  Jove/  quoth  she,  'why  was  not  I  a  flood  1' 

84 


POEMS  The  Passionate  Pilgrim 

VII 

Fair  is  my  love,  but  not  so  fair  as  fickle, 
Mild  as  a  dove,  but  neither  true  nor  trusty, 
Brighter  than  glass  and  yet,  as  glass  is,  brittle, 
Softer  than  wax  and  yet  as  iron  rusty : 

A  lily  pale,  with  damask  dye  to  grace  her,        5 
None  fairer,  nor  none  falser  to  deface  her. 

Her  lips  to  mine  how  often  hath  she  joined, 
Between  each  kiss  her  oaths  of  true  love  swearing  1 
How  many  tales  to  please  me  hath  she  coined, 
Dreading  my  love,  the  loss  thereof  still  fearing!  10 
Yet  in  the  midst  of  all  her  pure  pretestings, 
Her  faith,  her  oaths,  her  tears,  and  all  were  jest- 
ings. 

She  burn'd  with  love,  as  straw  with  fire  flameth; 
She  burn'd  out  love,  as  soon  as  straw  out-burneth ; 
She  framed  the  love,  and  yet  she  f oil'd  the  fram- 
ing; 15 
She  bade  love  last,  and  yet  she  fell  a-turning. 

Was  this  a  lover,  or  a  lecher  whether? 

[Bad  in  the  best,  though  excellent  in  neither. 


VIII 

If  music  and  sweet  poetry  agree, 

As  they  must  needs,  the  sister  and  the  brother, 

VIII.  This  Sonnet  was  published  in  Richard  Barnfield's  Encomion 
of  Lady  Pecunia,  1598,  the  year  before  its  appearance  in  The  Pas- 

85 


The  Passionate  Pilgrim  POEMS 

Then  must  the  love  be  great  'twixt  thee  and  me, 
Because  thou  lovest  the  one  and  I  the  other. 
Dowland  to  thee  is  dear,  whose  heavenly  touch       5 
Upon  the  lute  doth  ravish  human  sense; 
Spenser  to  me,  whose  deep  conceit  is  such 
As  passing  all  conceit  needs  no  defense. 
Thou  lovest  to  hear  the  sweet  melodious  sound 
That  Phoebus'  lute,  the  queen  of  music,  makes ;     10 
And  I  in  deep  delight  am  chiefly  drown'd 
When  as  himself  to  singing  he  betakes. 

One  god  is  god  of  both,  as  poets  feign; 

One  knight  loves  both,  and  both  in  thee  remain. 


IX 

Pair  was  the  morn  when  the  fair  queen  of  love, 

•          ••••• 

Paler  for  sorrow  than  her  milk-white  dove,: 
For  Adon's  sake,  a  youngster  proud  and  wild; 

fionate  Pilgrim.  It  was  also  retained  in  Barnfield's  edition  of  1605. 
Probably,  therefore,  he  has  a  right  to  the  credit  of  it,  and  Shake- 
speare will  not  be  much  impoverished  by  missing  the  inheritance. — 
H.  N.  H. 

5.  John  Dowland  was  one  of  the  most  famous  of  Elizabethan  musi- 
cians; his  song-books  appeared  in  1597,  1600,  and  1603;  his  Pilgrim's 
Solace,  1612.  There  are  many  references  to  him  in  Elizabethan  and 
later  literature,  more  especially  to  his  Lachrymce,  or,  Seven  Tears 
figured  in  seven  heavenlie  Pavans  (1605) ;  (cp.  Bullen's  Lyrics  from 
Elizabethan  Song-Books). — I.  G. 

14.  "One  knight  loves  both";  probably  Sir  George  Carey,  K.  G.,  to 
whom  Dowland  dedicated  his  first  book  of  airs  (1597).  His  wife, 
daughter  of  Sir  John  Spencer  of  Althorpe,  was  a  great  friend  of 
Spenser  (L.).— C.  H.  H. 

86 


POEMS  The  Passionate  Pilgrim 

Her  stand  she  takes  upon  a  steep-up  hill:  5> 

Anon  Adonis  comes  with  horn  and  hounds ; 
he,  silly  queen,  with  more  than  love's  good  will, 
'orbade  the  boy  he  should  not  pass  those  grounds : 
Once,'  quoth  she,  'did  I  see  a  fair  sweet  youth 
Jlere  in  these  brakes  deep-wounded  with  a  boar,   10 
Deep  in  the  thigh,  a  spectacle  of  ruth! 
See  in  my  thigh/  quoth  she,  'here  was  the  sore/ 
She  showed  hers :  he  saw  more  wounds  than  one. 
And  blushing  fled,  and  left  all  alone. 


Iweet  rose,   fair  flower,   untimely  pluck'd,  soon 

vaded, 

'luck'd  in  the  bud  and  vaded  in  the  spring! 
Bright  orient  pearl,  alack,  too  timely  shaded! 
'air  creature,  kill'd  too  soon  by  death's  sharp  sting  f 
Like  a  green  plum  that  hangs  upon  a  tree,        5- 
And  falls  through  wind  before  the  fall  should 
be. 


weep  for  thee  and  yet  no  cause  I  have; 

why  thou  left'st  me  nothing  in  thy  will: 

nd  yet  thou  left'st  me  more  than  I  did  crave; 

why  I  craved  nothing  of  thee  still : 

O  yes,  dear  friend,  I  pardon  crave  of  thee, 

Thy  discontent  thou  didst  bequeath  to  me. 


87 


The  Passionate  Pilgrim  POEMS 

XI 

Venus,  with  young  Adonis  sitting  by  her 
Under  a  myrtle  shade,  began  to  woo  him : 
She  told  the  youngling  how  god  Mars  did  try  her, 
And  as  he  fell  to  her,  so  fell  she  to  him. 
*Even  thus,5  quoth  she,  'the  warlike  god  embraced 
me/  5 

And  then  she  clipp'd  Adonis  in  her  arms ; 
*Even  thus/  quoth  she,  'the  warlike  god  unlaced 


me/ 


As  if  the  boy  should  use  like  loving  charms ; 
'Even  thus/  quoth  she,  'he  seized  on  my  lips/ 
And  with  her  lips  on  his  did  act  the  seizure :  30 

And  as  she  fetched  breath,  away  he  skips, 
And  would  not  take  her  meaning  nor  her  pleasure. 
Ah,  that  I  had  my  lady  at  this  bay, 
,To  kiss  and  clip  me  till  I  run  away! 


XII 

Crabbed  age  and  youth  cannot  live  together: 
Youth  is  full  of  pleasance,  age  is  full  of  care ; 
Youth  like  summer  morn,  age  like  winter  weather; 
Youth  like  summer  brave,  age  like  winter  bare. 

XI.  This  Sonnet,  considerably  varied,  is  the  third  in  a  collection 
of  Sonnets  entitled  Fidessa,  and  published  in  1596,  with  the  name 
of  B.   Griffin   as   the  author.     Mr.   Collier,  however,  had   seen  it  in 
a  manuscript  of  the  time,  with  the  initials  W.  S.  at  the  end.    The 
words,  young  in  the  first  line,  and  so  in  the  fourth,  are  taken  from 
Griffin's  collection.— H.  N.  H. 

XII.  "stay'st";  old  eds.,  "stales."— I.  G. 


POEMS  The  Passionate  Pilgrim 

Youth  is  full  of  sport,  age's  breath  is  short ;  5 

Youth  is  nimble,  age  is  lame ; 
Youth  is  hot  and  bold,  age  is  weak  and  cold; 

Youth  is  wild,  and  age  is  tame. 
Age,  I  do  abhor  thee ;  youth,  I  do  adore  thee ; 

O,  my  love,  my  love  is  young !  10 

Age,  I  do  defy  thee :  O,  sweet  shepherd,  hie  thee, 

For  methinks  thou  stay'st  too  long. 

XIII 

Beauty  is  but  a  vain  and  doubtful  good; 

A  shining  gloss  that  vadeth  suddenly; 

A  flower  that  dies  when  first  it  'gins  to  bud; 

A  brittle  glass  that 's  broken  presently: 

A  doubtful  good,  a  gloss,  a  glass,  a  flower,     5 
Lost,  vaded,  broken,  dead  within  an  hour. 

And  as  goods  lost  are  seld  or  never  found, 
As  vaded  gloss  no  rubbing  will  refresh, 
As  flowers  dead  lie  wither'd  on  the  ground, 
As  broken  glass  no  cement  can  redress, 

So  beauty  blemish'd  once  's  for  ever  lost, 
In  spite  of  physic,  painting,  pain  and  cost. 

XIV 

Good  night,  good  rest.     Ah,  neither  be  my  share: 
She  bade  good  night  that  kept  my  rest  away; 

XIII.  Two    copies    of   this    poem   "from   a   corrected    MS."    were 
printed  in  Gent.  Mag.  xx.  521 ;  xxx.  39 ;  the  variants  do  not  improve 
the  poem. — I.  G. 

XIV.  Probably  not  Shakespeare's.— C.  H.  H. 

89 


The  Passionate  Pilgrim  POEMS 

And  daff  'd  me  to  a  cabin  hang'd  with  care, 
To  descant  on  the  doubts  of  my  decay. 

'Farewell,'  quoth  she,  'and  come  again  to-mor- 
morrow:'  5 

Fare  well  I  could  not,  for  I  supp'd  with  sorrow. 

Yet  at  my  parting  sweetly  did  she  smile, 
In  scorn  or  friendship,  nill  I  construe  whether: 
'T  may  be,  she  joy'd  to  jest  at  my  exile, 
'T  may  be,  again  to  make  me  wander  thither :      10 
'Wander,'  a  word  for  shadows  like  myself, 
As  take  the  pain,  but  cannot  pluck  the  pelf. 

XV 

Lord,  how  mine  eyes  throw  gazes  to  the  east! 

My  heart  doth  charge  the  watch ;  the  morning  rise 

Doth  cite  each  moving  sense  from  idle  rest. 

Not  daring  trust  the  office  of  mine  eyes, 

While  Philomela  sits  and  sings,  I  sit  and  mark,  5 
And  wish  her  lays  were  tuned  like  the  lark; 

For  she  doth  welcome  daylight  with  her  ditty, 
And  drives  away  dark  dreaming  night ; 
The  night  so  pack'd,  I  post  unto  my  pretty; 
Heart  hath  his  hope  and  eyes  their  wished  sight;  10 
Sorrow  changed  to  solace  and  solace  mix'd  with 

sorrow ; 

For  why,  she  sigh'd,  and  bade  me  come  to-mor- 
row. 

XV.  Probably  not  Shakespeare's.— C.  H.  H. 

8.  "And  drives";  perhaps  we  should  read,  "And  daylight  drives" 
(Anon.  conj.). — I.  G. 

90 


POEMS  The  Passionate  Pilgrim 

Were  I  with  her,  the  night  would  post  too  soon; 
But  now  are  minutes  added  to  the  hours; 
To  spite  me  now,  each  minute  seems  a  moon;         15 
Yet  not  for  me,  shine  sun  to  succor  flowers ! 

Pack  night,  peep  day ;  good  day,  of  night  now 

borrow; 

Short,  night,  to-night,  and  length  thyself  to- 
morrow. 


XVI 

It  was  a  lording's  daughter,  the  fairest  one  of  three, 
That  liked  of  her  master  as  well  as  well  might  be, 
Till  looking  on  an  Englishman,  the  f air'st  that  eye 

could  see, 

Her  fancy  fell  a-turning. 
Long  was  the  combat  doubtful  that  love  with  love 

did  fight,  5 

To  leave  the  master  loveless,  or  kill  the  gallant 

knight : 
To  put  in  practice  either,  alas,  it  was  a  spite 

Unto  the  silly  damsel! 

But  one  must  be  refused;  more  mickle  was  the  pain 
That  nothing  could  be  used  to  turn  them  both  to 

gain,  10 

For  of  the  two  the  trusty  knight  was  wounded  with 

disdain : 
Alas,  she  could  not  help  it! 

XVI.  In  the  original,  this  piece  stands  first  in  the  division  called 
"Sonnets  to  sundry  Notes  of  Music"— H.  N.  H. 
2.  "master";  teacher.— C.  H.  H. 

91 


The  Passionate  Pilgrim  POEMS 

Thus  art  with  arms  contending  was  victor  of  the 

day, 
Which  by  a  gift  of  learning  did  bear  the  maid 

away: 
Then,  lullaby,  the  learned  man  hath  got  the  lady 

gay;  15 

For  now  my  song  is  ended. 


XVII 

On  a  day,  alack  the  day! 

Love,  whose  month  was  ever  May, 

Spied  a  blossom  passing  fair, 

Playing  in  the  wanton  air  : 

Through  the  velvet  leaves  the  wind  5 

All  unseen  'gan  passage  find; 

That  the  lover,  sick  to  death, 

Wish'd  himself  the  heaven's  breath, 

*Air,'  quoth  he,  *  thy  cheeks  may  blow; 

Air,  would  I  might  triumph  so!  10 

But,  alas !  my  hand  hath  sworn 

Ne'er  to  pluck  thee  from  thy  thorn: 

Vow,  alack!  for  youth  unmeet: 

Youth,  so  apt  to  pluck  a  sweet. 

Thou  for  whom  Jove  would  swear  15 

Juno  but  an  Ethiope  were ; 

And  deny  himself  for  Jove, 

Turning  mortal  for  thy  love/ 

XVII.  This  poem,  in  a  more  finished  state,  and  with  two  addi- 
tional lines  occurs  in  Love's  Labor's  Lost,  Act  IV,  sc.  3.  It  was  also 
printed  in  England's  Helicon,  1600,  with  the  signature  "W.  Shake- 
speare." 


POEMS  The  Passionate  Pilgrim 

[XVIII] 

My  flocks  feed  not, 
My  ewes  breed  not, 
My  rams  speed  not; 

All  is  amiss: 

Love's  denying,  5 

Faith's  defying, 
Heart's  renying, 

Causer  of  this. 
All  my  merry  jigs  are  quite  forgot, 
All  my  lady's  love  is  lost,  God  wot:  10 

Where  her  faith  was  firmly  fix'd  in  love, 
There  a  nay  is  placed  without  remove. 
One  silly  cross 
Wrought  all  my  loss ; 

O  frowning  Fortune,  cursed,  fickle  dame!     15 
For  now  I  see 
Inconstancy 

More  in  women  than  in  men  remain. 
In  black  mourn  I, 

All  fears  scorn  I,  20 

Love  hath  forlorn  me, 

Living  in  thrall: 

XVIII.  This  poem,  also,  was  published  in  England's  Helicon,  but 
is  there  called  "The  unknown  Shepherd's  Complaint"  and  signed 
Ignoto.  It  had  appeared  anonymously,  with  music,  in  a  collection 
of  Madrigals  by  Thomas  Weelkes,  1597.  The  three  forms  have  some 
slight  variations,  but  none  worth  noticing. — H.  N.  H. 

5.  "Love's  denying";  Malone's  conj.;  old  eds.,  "Love  is  dying"; 
England's  Helicon,  ((Love  is  denying." — I.  G. 

7.  f(renying";  ed.  1599,  "nenying." — I.  G. 

13.  "cross";  accident,  mischance. — C.  H.  H. 

21.  "Love  hath  forlorn  me";  Steevens  conj.  "Love  forlorn  I."— 
I.  G. 

9* 


The  Passionate  Pilgrim  POEMS 

Heart  is  bleeding, 
All  help  needing, 
O  cruel  speeding,  25 

Fraughted  with  gall, 
My  shepherd's  pipe  can  sound  no  deal: 
My  wether's  bell  rings  doleful  knell; 
My  curtal  dog,  that  wont  to  have  play'd, 
Plays  not  at  all,  but  seems  afraid ;  30 

My  sighs  so  deep 
Procure  to  weep, 

In  howling  wise,  to  see  my  doleful  plight. 
How  sighs  resound 
Through  heartless  ground,  35 

Like  a  thousand  vanquished  men  in  bloody  fight ! 
Clear  wells  spring  not, 
Sweet  birds  sing  not, 
Green  plants  bring  not 

Forth  their  dye;  40 

Herds  stand  weeping, 
Flocks  all  sleeping, 
Nymphs  back  peeping 

Fearfully : 

All  our  pleasure  known  to  us  poor  swains,  45 

All  our  merry  meetings  on  the  plains, 
All  our  evening  sport  from  us  is  fled, 
All  our  love  is  lost,  for  Love  is  dead. 
Farewell,  sweet  lass, 

31-32.  "My  sighs  .  .  .  Procure  to";  edd.  1599,  1612,  "With 
sighes  .  .  .  procures  to";  the  reading  of  the  text  is  Malone's. — 
I.  G. 

43.  "back  peeping";  edd.  1599,  1612,  "blacke  peeping" — I.  G. 


POEMS  The  Passionate  Pilgrim 

Thy  like  ne'er  was  50 

For  a  sweet  content,  the  cause  of  all  my  moan: 

Poor  Corydon 

Must  live  alone; 

Other  help  for  him  I  see  that  there  is  none* 

XIX 

When  as  thine  eye  hath  chose  the  dame, 
And  stall' d  the  deer  that  thou  shouldst  strike, 
Let  reason  rule  things  worthy  blame, 
As  well  as  fancy,  partial  wight : 

Take  counsel  of  some  wiser  head,  5 

Neither  too  young  nor  yet  unwed. 

And  when  thou  comest  thy  tale  to  tell, 

Smooth  not  thy  tongue  with  filed  talk, 

Lest  she  some  subtle  practice  smell,— 

A  cripple  soon  can  find  a  halt;—  10 

But  plainly  say  thou  lovest  her  well, 

And  set  thy  person  forth  to  sell. 

What  though  her  frowning  brows  be  bent, 

Her  cloudy  looks  will  calm  ere  night : 

And  then  too  late  she  will  repent  15 

That  thus  dissembled  her  delight ; 
And  twice  desire,  ere  it  be  day, 
That  which  with  scorn  she  put  away/ 

4.  "fancy,  partial  wight";  Capell  MS.  and  Malone  conj.  with- 
drawn; edd.  1599,  1612,  "fancy  (party  all  might)"  \  ed.  1640,  "fancy 
(partly  all  might)";  Malone  (from  MS.  copy),  "fancy,  partial  like"; 
Collier  (from  MS.  copy),  "partial  fancy  like";  Steevens  conj.  "fancy, 
partial  tike";  Furnivall  conj.  "fancy's  partial  might."— I.  G. 

95 


The  Passionate  Pilgrim  POEMS 

What  though  she  strive  to  try  her  strength, 
And  ban  and  brawl,  and  say  thee  nay,  20 

Her  feeble  force  will  yield  at  length, 
When  craft  hath  taught  her  thus  to  say; 

'Hath  women  been  so  strong  as  men, 

In  faith,  you  had  not  had  it  then/ 

And  to  her  will  frame  all  thy  ways ;  25 

Spare  not  to  spend,  and  chiefly  there 

Where  thy  desert  may  merit  praise, 

By  ringing  in  thy  lady's  ear : 

The  strongest  castle,  tower  and  town, 

The  golden  bullet  beats  it  down.  30 

Serve  always  with  assured  trust, 

And  in  thy  suit  be  humble  true; 

Unless  thy  lady  prove  unjust, 

Press  never  thou  to  choose  anew: 

When  time  shall  serve,  be  thou  not  slack          35 
To  proffer,  though  she  put  thee  back. 

The  wiles  and  guiles  that  women  work, 

Dissembled  with  an  outward  show, 

The  tricks  and  toys  that  in  them  lurk, 

The  cock  that  treads  them  shall  not  know.  40 

Have  you  not  heard  it  said  full  oft, 
A  woman's  nay  doth  stand  for  nought? 

Think  women  still  to  strive  with  men, 
To  sin  and  never  for  to  saint: 

96 


POEMS  The  Passionate  Pilgrim 

There  is  no  heaven,  by  holy  then,  45 

When  time  with  age  shall  them  attaint. 

Were  kisses  all  the  joys  in  bed, 

One  woman  would  another  wed. 

But,  soft!  enough — too  much,  I  fear — 
L<est  that  my  mistress  hear  my  song :  50 

She  will  not  stick  to  round  me  on  th'  ear, 
To  teach  my  tongue  to  be  so  long : 

Yet  will  she  blush,  here  be  it  said, 

To  hear  her  secrets  so  bewray'd. 


[XX] 

ave  with  me,  and  be  my  love, 
And  we  will  all  the  pleasures  prove 
That  hills  and  valleys,  dales  and  fields, 
And  all  the  craggy  mountains  yields. 

45.  "There  is  no  heaven,  by  holy  then";  the  line  has  been  variously 
mended;  Malone  reads  from  an  old  MS.: — 

Here  is  no  heaven;  they  holy  then 
Begin,  when,  etc. 

Jo  satisfactory  emendation  has  been  proposed,  and  perhaps  the 
riginal  reading  may  be  allowed  to  stand  without  the  comma  after 
heaven": — f< there  is  no  heaven  by  holy  then";  i.  e.,  "by  that  holy 
ime";  others  suggest,  "be  holy  then,"  or  "by  the  holy  then"  etc. — 

G. 

XX.  This  poem  and  the  "Answer,"  both  of  which  are  here  very 
ncomplete,  especially  the  latter,  are  well  known  as  the  workman- 
hip  of  Christopher  Marlowe  and  Sir  Walter  Raleigh.  They  ap- 
>eared  in  England's  Helicon,  the  one  as  Marlowe's,  the  other  un- 
er  the  name  of  Ignoto,  which  was  the  signature  sometime  used 
y  Raleigh.  See,  also,  The  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor,  Act  iii.  sc,  1. 
5oth  songs  are  given  in  full  at  the  end  of  that  play. — H.  N.  H. 

1.  "Live  with  me,  and  be  my  love";  in  England's  Helicon  and 
XXXIX— 7  97 


The  Passionate  Pilgrim  POEMS 

There  will  we  sit  upon  the  rocks,  5 

And  see  the  shepherds  feed  their  flocks, 
By  shallow  rivers,  by  whose  falls 
Melodious  birds  sing  madrigals. 

There  will  I  make  thee  a  bed  of  roses, 

With  a  thousand  fragrant  posies,  10 

A  cap  of  flowers,  and  a  kirtle 

Embroider'd  all  with  leaves  of  myrtle. 

A  belt  of  straw  and  ivy  buds, 

With  coral  clasps  and  amber  studs; 

And  if  these  pleasures  may  thee  move,  15 

Then  live  with  me  and  be  my  love. 

LOVE'S  ANSWER. 

If  that  the  world  and  love  were  young, 
And  truth  in  every  shepherd's  tongue, 
These  pretty  pleasures  might  me  move 
To  live  with  thee  and  be  thy  love. 

other  early  versions  the  line  runs,  "Come  live  with  me"  etc.,  and 
in  this  way  it  is  usually  quoted.  Two  verses  found  in  England's 
Helicon  are  omitted  in  the  present  version,  but  included  in  the  1640 
ed.,  where  "Love's  Answer"  is  also  in  six  quatrains;  the  additional 
matter  was  evidently  also  derived  from  England's  Helicon.  After 
I.  12  the  following  lines  are  inserted: — 

eeA  gown  made  of  the  finest  wool, 

Which  from  our  pretty  Lambs  we  pull. 

Fair  lined  slippers  for  the  cold, 

With  buckles  of  the  purest  gold." 

The  last  stanza  runs  thus: — 

"The  shepherds'  swains  shall  dance  and  sing> 
For  thy  delight  each  May  morning; 
If  these  delights  thy  mind  may  move, 
Then  live  with  me  and  be  my  love." — I.  G. 
98 


POEMS  The  Passionate  Pilgrim 

XXI 

As  it  fell  upon  a  day 

In  the  merry  month  of  May, 

Sitting  in  a  pleasant  shade 

Which  a  grove  of  myrtles  made, 

Beasts  did  leap  and  birds  did  sing,  5 

Trees  did  grow  and  plants  did  spring; 

Every  thing  did  banish  moan, 

Save  the  nightingale  alone: 

She,  poor  bird,  as  all  forlorn, 

Lean'd  her  breast  up-till  a  thorn,  10 

And  there  sung  the  dolefull'st  ditty, 

That  to  hear  it  was  great  pity : 

"Fie,  fie,  fie/  now  would  she  cry; 

'Tereu,  Tereu!'  by  and  by; 

That  to  hear  her  so  complain,  15 

Scarce  I  could  from  tears  refrain; 

For  her  griefs  so  lively  shown 

Made  me  think  upon  mine  own. 

Ah,  thought  I,  thou  mourn'st  in  vain! 

None  takes  pity  on  thy  pain :  20 

Senseless  trees  they  cannot  hear  thee ; 

Ruthless  beasts  they  will  not  cheer  thee : 

King  Pandion  he  is  dead; 

All  thy  friends  are  lapp'd  in  lead; 

All  thy  fellow  birds  do  sing,  25 

XXI.  This  poem  is  found  in  Barnfield's  Encomion  of  Lady  Pecu- 
nia,  1598,  and  also  in  England's  Helicon.  In  the  latter  it  has  the 
signature  Ignoto;  but  as  Barnfield  retained  it  in  his  edition  of 
1605,  he  probably  had  a  right  to  it.— H.  N.  H. 

14.  "Tereu";  an  imitation  of  the  nightingale's  note,  with  an  allu- 
sion to  the  legend  of  Philomela,  whose  persecutions  by  Tereus 
caused"  her  transformation  into  a  nightingale. — C.  H.  H. 

23.  "Pandion";  the  father  of  Philomela.— C.  H.  H. 

99 


The  Passionate  Pilgrim  POEMS 

Careless  of  thy  sorrowing. 

Even  so,  poor  bird,  like  thee, 

None  alive  will  pity  me. 

Whilst  as  fickle  Fortune  smiled, 

Thou  and  I  were  both  beguiled.  80 

Every  one  that  flatters  thee 
Is  no  friend  in  misery. 
Words  are  easy,  like  the  wind; 
Faithful  friends  are  hard  to  find: 
Every  man  will  be  thy  friend  35 

Whilst  thou  hast  wherewith  to  spend; 
But  if  store  of  crowns  be  scant, 
No  man  will  supply  thy  want. 
If  that  one  be  prodigal, 

Bountiful  they  will  him  call,  40 

And  with  such-like  flattering, 
'Pity  but  he  were  a  king;' 
If  he  be  addict  to  vice, 
Quickly  him  they  will  entice; 

If  to  women  he  be  bent,  45 

They  have  at  commandment: 
But  if  Fortune  once  do  frown, 
Then  farewell  his  great  renown; 
They  that  f awn'd  on  him  before 
Use  his  company  no  more.  50 

He  that  is  thy  friend  indeed, 
He  will  help  thee  in  thy  need: 
If  thou  sorrow,  he  will  weep ; 
If  thou  wake,  he  cannot  sleep; 
Thus  of  every  grief  in  heart  55 

He  with  thee  doth  bear  a  part. 
These  are  certain  signs  to  know 
Faithful  friend  from  flattering  f oe« 

100 


THE  RAPE  OF  LUCRECE 


To  the 
RIGHT  HONOURABLE,  HENRY  WRIOTHESLEY 

Earle  of  Southhampton,  and  Baron  of  Titchfield. 

THE  loue  I  dedicate  to  your  Lordship  is  without 
end:  whereof  this  Pamphlet  without  beginning" 
is  but  a  superfluous  Moity.  The  warrant  I  haue  of 
your  Honourable  disposition,  not  the  worth  of  my 
vntutord  Lines  makes  it  assured  of  acceptance. 
What  I  haue  done  is  yours,  what  I  haue  to  doe  i& 
yours,  being  part  in  all  I  haue,  deuoted  yours. 
Were  my  worth  greater,  my  duety  would  shew 
greater,  meane  time,  as  it  is,  it  is  bound  to  your 
Lordship;  To  whom  I  wish  long  life  still  lengthned 
with  all  happmesse. 

Your  Lordships  in  all  duety. 

WILLIAM  SHAKESPEARE. 


PREFACE 

By  ISRAEL  GOIXANCZ,  M.A. 

THE    EARLY    EDITIONS 

The  first  edition  of  "LTJCRECE"  was  published  in  quarto 
in  1594,  with  the  following  title-page: — 

"LVCRECE  |  LONDON.  |  Printed  by  Richard  Field,  for 
John  Harrison,  and  are  |  to  be  sold  at  the  signe  of  the 
White  Greyhound  |  in  Paules  Church-yard.  1594  |  ." 

The  running  title  is  "The  Rape  of  Lvcrece."  The 
Bodleian  Library  copies  of  this  edition  differ  in  some  im- 
portant readings,  showing  that  the  text  was  corrected  while 
passing  through  the  press.  Seven  new  editions  appeared 
by  the  year  1655 ;  the  1616  issue  purported  to  be  "newly 
revised,"  but  the  variant  readings  are  of  very  doubtful 
value. 

THE    SOURCE    OF    THE    PLOT 

The  story  of  Lucrece  had  been  treated  by  many  English 
writers  before  Shakespeare  chose  it  as  the  subject  of  "the 
second  heir55  of  his  invention.  Chaucer  told  her  story  in 
his  Legend  of  Good  Women,  quoting  "Ovid  and  Titus 
Livius"  as  his  originals  (cp.  Ovid's  Fasti,  ii,  741;  Livy, 
Bk.  1,  chs.  57,  58).  Lydgate  treated  the  same  theme  in 
his  Falls  of  Princes;  Painter,  in  his  Palace  of  Pleasure, 

1567.  There    were    other    English    renderings,    notably 
"ballads'5  entered  on  the  Stationers5  Registers  in  the  years 

1568,  1570 ;  a  ballad  was  also  printed  in  1576. 
Shakespeare  seems  to  have  read  Ovid5s  version,  and  this 

may  be  considered  his  main  source.2 

1  Op.  No.  35,  Shakespere  Quarto  Fac-similes. 

2  Cp.  Baynes'  essay  on  Shakespeare  and  Ovid,  with  reference  to  hi? 
early  poems  (Eraser's  Magazine,  xxi.). 

105 


The  Rape  of  Lucrece  POEMS 

THE    DATE    OF    COMPOSITION 

In  the  dedication  of  Venus  and  Adonis  to  the  Earl  of 
Southampton,  the  poet  had  vowed  "to  take  advantage  of 
all  idle  hours"  till  "I  have  honored  you  with  some  graver 
labor."  Lucrece  must  therefore  have  been  written  after 
the  dedication  containing  these  words,  and  before  its  entry 
on  the  books  of  the  Stationers'  Company,  i.  e.  between 
April,  1593  and  May,  1594. 

Like  the  former  poem,  Lucrece  was  also  addressed  to 
Southampton:  it  is  instructive,  however,  to  compare  the 
two  dedications;  between  the  first  and  second  letters  timid 
deference  towards  an  exalted  patron  has  ripened  into  af- 
fectionate devotion. 

A  comparison  of  the  two  companion  poems,  Venus  and 
Adonis  and  Lucrece,  the  one  a  study  of  "female  lust  and 
boyish  coldness,"  the  other  of  "male  lust  and  womanly 
chastity,"  brings  out  prominently  the  advance  made  in  the 
later  poem  in  respect  of  ease  and  versification,  maturity 
of  observation,  and  didactic  tendency.  This  latter  su- 
periority seems  to  have  been  noted  by  Shakespeare's  con- 
temporaries : —  1  » 

"Who  loves  chaste  life,  there  Lucrece  for  a  teacher: 
Who  lis't  read  lust  there's  Venus  and  Adonis." 

(FREEMAN'S  Runne  and  a  Great  Cast,  1614.) 

i  The  earliest  allusion  to  Shakespeare  by  name  occurs  in  connec- 
tion with  a  reference  to  his  Lucrece,  in  the  commencing  verses  of  a 
laudatory  address  prefixed  to  "Willobie  his  Avisa,"  1594.  In  the  same 
year  the  author  of  an  Elegy  on  Lady  Helen  Branch  included  among 
"our  greater  poetes": — "You  that  have  writ  of  Chaste  Lucretia": 
Drayton's  reference,  in  his  Matilda,  also  in  1594,  may  have  been 
to  a  play  on  the  subject,  as,  in  all  probability,  was  Heywood's  allu- 
sion in  his  Apology  for  Actors,  1612.  Heywood's  play  on  Lucrece  is 
not  devoid  of  merit.  In  1595  the  following  words  are  found  in  the 
margin  of  a  curious  volume,  entitled  Polimanteia,  published  at  Cam- 
bridge:— "All  praise  worthy  Lucrecia  Sweet  Shakspeare." 

Sir  John  Suckling's  "supplement  of  an  imperfect  Copy  of  Verses 
of  Mr.  Wil.  Shakespears"  appears  at  first  sight  to  commence  with 
two  six-line  stanzas,  representing  a  different  and  perhaps  earlier 
recension  of  Lucrece,  but  this  is  doubtful,  and  in  all  probability  the 
alterations  were  Sir  John  Suckling's,  the  verses  being  derived  from 
one  of  the  books  of  Elegant  Extracts,  c.  g.  England's  Parnassus. 

106 


INTRODUCTION 

By  HENRY  NORMAN  HUDSON,  A.M. 

"A  book  entitled  The  Ravishment  of  Lucrece"  is  the 
reading  of  an  entry  at  the  Stationers',  by  "Mr.  Harrison, 
senior,"  on  May  9,  1594.  The  same  year  was  issued  a 
quarto  pamphlet  of  forty-seven  leaves,  with  the  following 
title-page:  "Lucrece.  London:  Printed  by  Richard 
Field  for  John  Harrison,  and  are  to  be  sold  at  the  sign  of 
the  white  Greyhound  in  Paul's  Church-yard.  1594." 
The  poem  was  reissued  by  the  same  publisher,  in  1598, 
1600,  and  1607.  Malone  claims  to  have  heard  of  editions 
in  1596  and  1602;  he  was  probably  misinformed,  as  no 
copies  with  those  dates  have  been  discovered. 

In  his  dedication  of  this  poem  to  the  Earl  of  Southamp- 
ton, the  author  speaks  in  a  more  confident  tone  than  in  that 
of  the  Venus  and  Adonis,  as  if  his  growth  of  reputation 
during  the  interval  had  given  him  a  feeling  of  strength 
with  his  noble  friend  and  patron.  The  language,  too,  of 
the  dedication  is  such  as  to  infer,  that  he  had  in  the  mean- 
time tasted  more  largely  of  that  nobleman's  bounty.  The 
Rape  of  Lucrece  was  not  commended  so  much  as  its  prede- 
cessor during  the  Poet's  life,  but  received  commendation 
from  higher  sources,  and  in  a  higher  style. 

Lucretia  the  Chaste  is  a  theme  of  frequent  recurrence  in 
the  romantic  literature  of  the  middle  ages,  when  knight- 
hood and  chivalry  were  wont  to  feed  themselves  on  the 
glory  of  her  example.  The  story  was  accessible  to  Shake- 
speare in  Chaucer  and  Lydgate,  and  in  Paynter's  Palace 
of  Pleasure:  there  were  also  several  ballads  on  the  subject. 
As  to  the  classical  sources  of  the  tale,  it  is  not  likely  that 
the  Poet  was  beholden  directly  to  any  of  them,  except,  per- 

107 


The  Rape  of  Lucrece  POEMS 

haps,  the  Fasti,  of  which  an  English  version  appeared  in 
1570. 

Modern  criticism,  generally,  assigns  The  Rape  of  Lu- 
crece a  place  of  merit  considerably  below  that  of  the  Venus 
and  Adonis.  The  thought  and  passion  of  the  later  poem 
were,  from  the  nature  of  the  subject,  of  a  much  severer 
order,  and  probably  did  not  admit  of  the  warmth  and  vivid- 
ness of  coloring  and  imagery  which  so  distinguish  the  ear- 
lier ; 'though  there  is  in  both  a  certain  incontinence  of  wit 
and  fancy,  which  shows  that  impulse  was  at  that  time 
stronger  with  the  Poet  than  art.  The  truth  seems  to  be, 
that  both  are  too  highly  seasoned  with  the  peculiar  spicery 
of  the  time  to  carry  an  abiding  relish.  Their  shape  and 
physiognomy  express  rather  the  literary  fashion  of  the 
age,  than  the  Poet's  mental  character;  and  what  was  then 
apt  to  be  regarded  as  the  crowning  witchcraft  of  poetry, 
has  the  effect  now  of  studied  and  elaborate  coldness;  the 
real  glow  of  the  work  being  drowned  and  lost  to  us  in  a 
profuse  and  redundant  sparkling  of  conceit. 

In  Bell's  edition  of  The  English  Poets,  the  comparative 
merit  of  the  two  poems  is  discussed  as  follows:  "Opinion 
is  divided  in  the  choice  between  Venus  and  Adonis  and  The 
Rape  of  Lucrece.  Malone  pronounces  decidedly  against 
the  latter, — a  decision  which  greatly  surprises  Bos  well. 
The  majority  of  readers  will  be  likely  to  agree  with  Ma- 
lone.  The  subject  of  the  former  piece  is,  at  least,  less 
painful,  and  its  treatment  is  more  compact  and  effective. 
In  beauty  of  expression  and  passionate  depth  of  feeling, 
the  Venus  and  Adonis  transcends  the  Lucrece,  upon  which 
more  elaboration  has  been  bestowed  with  less  success.  The 
interest  of  Lucrece  suffers  from  attenuation.  The  agony  is 
too  protracted;  the  horror  of  the  main  incident  is  ex- 
hausted by  prolonged  augmentation ;  and  the  close  is 
abrupt  and  hurried.  There  is  a  want  of  symmetry  in  the 
parts ;  and  the  catastrophe  is  not  presented  with  the  fullness 
and  solemnity  proportionate  to  the  expectations  excited  by 
the  preparatory  details.  But  the  poem  abounds  in  sweet 
and  noble  passages ;  and  in  both  pieces  we  discover  the 

108 


POEMS  The  Rape  of  Lucrece 

germs  of  that  unerring  genius  which  impressed  the  true 
image  of  nature  upon  every  scene  and  character  it  de- 
picted." 

A  passage  from  Coleridge  will  best  dismiss  the  subject: 
"No  man  was  ever  yet  a  great  poet,  without  being  at  the 
same  time  a  profound  philosopher.  For  poetry  is  the  blos- 
som and  fragrancy  of  all  human  knowledge,  human 
thoughts,  human  passions,  emotions,  language.  In  Shake- 
speare's poems,  the  creative  power  and  the  intellectual  en- 
ergy wrestle  as  in  a  war  embrace.  Each  in  its  excess  of 
strength  seems  to  threaten  the  extinction  of  the  other. 
At  length,  in  the  drama  they  were  reconciled,  and  fought 
each  with  its  shield  before  the  breast  of  the  other.  The 
Venus  and  Adorns  did  not,  perhaps,  allow  the  display  of  the 
deeper  passions.  But  the  story  of  Lucretia  seems  to  favor, 
and  even  demand  their  intensest  workings.  Yet  we  find 
in  Shakespeare's  management  of  the  tale  neither  pathos, 
nor  any  other  dramatic  quality.  There  is  the  same  minute 
and  faithful  imagery  as  in  the  former  poem,  in  the  same 
vivid  colors,  inspirited  by  the  same  impetuous  vigor  of 
thought,  and  diverging  and  contracting  with  the  same  ac- 
tivity of  the  assimulative  and  of  the  modifying  faculties ; 
and  with  a  yet  larger  display,  a  yet  wider  range  of  knowl- 
edge and  reflection ;  and,  lastly,  with  the  same  perfect  do- 
minion, often  domination,  over  the  whole  world  of  lan- 
guage." 


109 


THE  ARGUMENT 

By  ISRAEL  GOIXANCZ,  M.A. 

Lucius  Tarquinius,  for  his  excessive  pride  surnamed 
Superbus,  after  he  had  caused  his  own  father-in-law  Servius 
Tullius  to  be  cruelly  murdered,  and,  contrary  to  the  Ro- 
man laws  and  customs,  not  requiring  or  staying  for  the 
people's  suffrages,  had  possessed  himself  of  the  kingdom, 
went,  accompanied  with  his  sons  and  other  noblemen  of 
Rome,  to  besiege  Ardea.  During  which  siege  the  princi- 
pal men  of  the  army  meeting  one  evening  at  the  tent  of 
Sextus  Tarquinius,  the  king's  son,  in  their  discourses  after 
supper  every  one  commended  the  virtues  of  his  own  wife ; 
among  whom  Collatinus  extolled  the  incomparable  chastity 
of  his  wife  Lucretia.  In  that  pleasant  humor  they  all 
posted  to  Rome;  and  intending,  by  their  secret  and  sud- 
den arrival,  to  make  trial  of  that  which  every  one  had  be- 
fore avouched,  only  Collatinus  finds  his  wife,  though  it 
were  late  in  the  night,  spinning  among  her  maids :  the  other 
ladies  were  all  found  dancing  and  revelling,  or  in  several 
disports.  Whereupon  the  noblemen  yielded  Collatinus  the 
victory,  and  his  wife  the  fame.  At  that  time  Sextus  Tar- 
quinius being  inflamed  with  Lucrece's  beauty,  yet  smother- 
ing his  passions  for  the  present,  departed  with  the  rest  back 
to  the  camp ;  from  whence  he  shortly  after  privily  withdrew 
himself,  and  was,  according  to  his  estate,  royally  enter- 
tained and  lodged  by  Lucrece  at  Collatium.  The  same 
night  he  treacherously  stealeth  into  her  chamber,  violently 
ravished  her,  and  early  in  the  morning  speedeth  away. 
Lucrece,  in  this  lamentable  plight,  hastily  dispatcheth 
messengers,  one  to  Rome  for  her  father,  another  to  the 
camp  for  Collatine.  They  came,  the  one  accompanied 

aio 


POEMS  The  Rape  of  Lucrece 

with  Junius  Brutus,  the  other  with  Publius  Valerius;  and 
finding  Lucrece  attired  in  mourning  habit,  demanded  the 
cause  of  her  sorrow.  She,  first  taking  an  oath  of  them  for 
her  revenge,  revealed  the  actor  and  whole  manner  of  his 
dealing,  and  withal  suddenly  stabbed  herself.  Which 
done,  with  one  consent  they  all  avowed  to  root  out  the 
whole  hated  family  of  the  Tarquins ;  and  bearing  the  dead 
body  to  Rome,  Brutus  acquainted  the  people  with  the  doer 
and  manner  of  the  vile  deed,  with  a  bitter  invective  against 
the  tyranny  of  the  king:  wherewith  the  people  were  so 
moved,  that  with  one  consent  and  a  general  acclamation 
the  Tarquins  were  all  exiled,  and  the  state  government 
changed  from  kings  to  consuls. 


Ill 


THE  RAPE  OF  LUCRECE 

FROM  the  besieged  Ardea  all  in  post, 
Borne  by  the  trustless  wings  of  false  desire, 
•Lust-breathed  Tarquin  leaves  the  Roman  hostf 
And  to  Collatium  bears  the  lightless  fire, 
Which,  in  pale  embers  hid,  lurks  to  aspire, 

And  girdle  with  embracing  flames  the  waist 
Of  Collatine's  fair  love,  Lucrece  the  chaste. 

Haply  that  name  of  'chaste'  unhappily  set 
This  bateless  edge  on  his  keen  appetite; 
When  Collatine  unwisely  did  not  let 
To  praise  the  clear  unmatched  red  and  white 
Which  triumphed  in  that  sky  of  his  delight, 

Where  mortal  stars,   as  bright   as  heaven's 
beauties, 

With  pure  aspects  did  him  peculiar  duties. 

For  he  the  night  before,  in  Tarquin's  tent, 
Unlock'd  the  treasure  of  his  happy  state; 
What  priceless  wealth  the  heavens  had  him  lent 
In  the  possession  of  his  beauteous  mate ; 
Reckoning  his  fortune  at  such  high-proud  rate, 
That  kings  might  be  espoused  to  more  fame,  20 
But  king  nor  peer  to  such  a  peerless  dame. 

8.  "unhappily";  Qq.  1,  2,  3,  "vnhap'ly."—!.  G. 
XXXIX— 8 


The  Rape  of  Lucrece  POEMS 

O  happiness  enjoy'd  but  of  a  few! 
And,  if  possess'd,  as  soon  decay'd  and  done 
As  is  the  morning's  silver-melting  dew 
Against  the  golden  splendor  of  the  sun! 
An  expired  date,  cancell'd  ere  well  begun : 
Honor  and  beauty,  in  the  owner's  arms, 
Are  weakly  fortress'd  from  a  world  of  harms. 

Beauty  itself  doth  of  itself  persuade 

The  eyes  of  men  without  an  orator ;  30 

What  needeth  then  apologies  be  made, 

To  set  forth  that  which  is  so  singular? 

Or  why  is  Collatine  the  publisher 

Of  that  rich  jewel  he  should  keep  unknown 
From  thievish  ears,  because  it  is  his  own? 

Perchance  his  boast  of  Lucrece'  sovereignty 
Suggested  this  proud  issue  of  a  king; 
For  by  our  ears  our  hearts  oft  tainted  be : 
Perchance  that  envy  of  so  rich  a  thing, 
Braving  compare,  disdainfully  did  sting  40 

His  high-pitch'd  thoughts,  that  meaner  men 
should  vaunt 

That  golden  hap  which  their  superiors  want. 

But  some  untimely  thought  did  instigate 
His  all-too-timeless  speed,  if  none  of  those: 
His  honor,  his  affairs,  his  friends,  his  state, 
Neglected  all,  with  swift  intent  he  goes 

24.  "morning's";  Q.  1  (Bodl.  1),  "morning."—  I.  G. 
31.  "apologies";  Q.  1   (Bodl.  1),  "appologie."—!.  G. 
114 


POEMS  The  Rape  of  Lucrece 

To  quench  the  coal  which  in  his  liver  glows. 

O  rash- false  heat,  wrapp'd  in  repentant  cold, 
Thy  hasty  spring  still  blasts,  and  ne'er  grows 
old! 

When  at  Collatium  this  false  lord  arrived,  50 

Well  was  he  welcomed  by  the  Roman  dame, 
Within  whose  face  beauty  and  virtue  strived 
Which  of  them  both  should  underprop  her  fame : 
When   virtue   bragg'd,    beauty   would   blush   for 

shame ; 

When  beauty  boasted  blushes,  in  despite 
Virtue  would  stain  that  o'er  with  silver  white. 

But  beauty,  in  that  white  intituled, 
From  Venus'  doves  doth  challenge  that  fair  field: 
Then  virtue  claims  from  beauty  beauty's  red, 
Which  virtue  gave  the  golden  age  to  gild  60 

Their  silver  cheeks,  and  call'd  it  then  their  shield; 
Teaching  them  thus  to  use  it  in  the  fight, 
When  shame  assail'd,  the  red  should  fence  the 
white. 

This  heraldry  in  Lucrece'  face  was  seen, 
Argued  by  beauty's  red  and  virtue's  white : 
Of  cither's  color  was  the  other  queen, 
Proving  from  world's  minority  their  right : 
Yet  their  ambition  makes  them  still  to  fight; 
The  sovereignty  of  either  being  so  great, 
That  oft  they  interchange  each  other's  seat.  70 

56.  "o'er";  Qq.  1,  2,  3,  "ore";  Q.  4,  "ofe";  Malone   (1780),  "or" 
(i.  e.  gold).— I.  G. 

13J  115 


The  Rape  of  Lucrece  POEMS 

This  silent  war  of  lilies  ana  of  roses, 
Which  Tarquin  view'd  in  her  fair  face's  field, 
In  their  pure  ranks  his  traitor  eye  encloses ; 
Where,  lest  between  them  both  it  should  be  kill'd, 
The  coward  captive  vanquished  doth  yield 

To  those  two  armies,  that  would  let  him  go 
Rather  than  triumph  in  so  false  a  foe. 

Now  thinks  he  that  her  husband's  shallow  tongue, 
The  niggard  prodigal  that  praised  her  so, 
In  that  high  task  hath  done  her  beauty  wrong,    80 
Which  far  exceeds  his  barren  skill  to  show : 
Therefore  that  praise  which  Collatine  doth  owe 
Enchanted  Tarquin  answers  with  surmise, 
In  silent  wonder  of  still-gazing  eyes. 

This  earthly  saint,  adored  by  this  devil, 

Little  suspecteth  the  false  worshiper; 

For  unstain'd  thoughts  do  seldom  dream  on  evil ; 

Birds  never  limed  no  secret  bushes  fear: 

So  guiltless  she  securely  gives  good  cheer 

And  reverend  welcome  to  her  princely  guest,  90 
Whose  inward  ill  no  outward  harm  express'd: 

For  that  he  color'd  with  his  high  estate, 
Hiding  base  sin  in  plaits  of  majesty; 
That  nothing  in  him  seem'd  inordinate, 
Save  sometime  too  much  wonder  of  his  eye, 
Which,  having  all,  all  could  not  satisfy; 
But,  poorly  rich,  so  wanteth  in  his  store, 
That,  cloy'd  with  much,  he  pineth  still  for 
more. 

116 


POEMS  The  Rape  of  Lucrece 

But  she,  that  never  coped  with  stranger  eyes, 
Could  pick  no  meaning  from  their  parling  looks,  100 
Nor  read  the  subtle-shining  secrecies 
Writ  in  the  glassy  margents  of  such  books : 
She  touch'd  no  unknown  baits,  nor  f ear'd  no  hooks ; 
Nor  could  she  moralize  his  wanton  sight, 
More  than  his  eyes  were  open'd  to  the  light* 

He  stories  to  her  ears  her  husband's  fame, 

Won  in  the  fields  of  fruitful  Italy; 

And  decks  with  praises  Collatine's  high  name, 

Made  glorious  by  his  manly  chivalry 

With  bruised  arms  and  wreaths  of  victory:  HO 
Her  joy  with  heaved-up  hand  she  doth  express, 
And  wordless  so  greets  heaven  for  his  success. 

Far  from  the  purpose  of  his  coming  hither, 
He  makes  excuses  for  his  being  there : 
No  cloudy  show  of  stormy  blustering  weather 
Doth  yet  in  his  fair  welkin  once  appear; 
Till  sable  Night,  mother  of  dread  and  fear, 
Upon  the  world  dim  darkness  doth  display, 
And  in  her  vaulty  prison  stows  the  day. 

For  then  is  Tarquin  brought  unto  his  bed,  120 

Intending  weariness  with  heavy  spright ; 

For  after  supper  long  he  questioned 

With  modest  Lucrece,  and  wore  out  the  night: 


The  Rape  of  Lucrece  POEMS  I 

Now  leaden  slumber  with  life's  strength  doth  fight; 
And  every  one  to  rest  themselves  betake, 
Save  thieves  and  cares  and  troubled  minds  that 
wake. 

As  one  of  which  doth  Tarquin  lie  revolving 
The  sundry  dangers  of  his  will's  obtaining ; 
Yet  ever  to  obtain  his  will  resolving, 
Though  weak-built  hopes  persuade  him  to  abstain- 
ing: 130 
Despair  to  gain  doth  traffic  oft  for  gaining, 

And  when  great  treasure  is  the  meed  proposed, 
Though  death  be  adjunct,  there  's  no  death 
supposed. 

Those  that  much  covet  are  with  gain  so  fond 
That  what  they  have  not,  that  which  they  possess, 
They  scatter  and  unloose  it  from  their  bond, 
And  so,  by  hoping  more,  they  have  but  less; 
Or,  gaining  more,  the  profit  of  excess 

Is  but  to  surfeit,  and  such  griefs  sustain, 
That  they  prove  bankrupt  in  this  poor-rich 
gain.  140 

i 

125.  "themselves  betake";  some  copies  of  the  first  edition  have 
himself  betakesf  and,  in  the  next  line,  wakes  instead  of  wake.  Mr. 
Collier  tells  us  that  the  copies  of  1594  belonging  to  the  Duke  of 
Devonshire  and  the  late  Mr.  Caldecott  read  as  in  the  text.  Of 
course  the  explanation  is,  that  the  changes  were  made  while  the 
edition  was  in  press. — H.  N.  H. 

134-136.  Many  emendations  have  been  proposed  to  render  clear 
the  meaning  of  these  lines,  but  no  change  is  necessary:  "the  covetous 
have  not,  i.  e.  do  not  possess,  that  which  they  possess,  longing  for 
the  possessions  of  others";  the  second  clause  of  line  135  is  in 
apposition  to  the  first. — I.  G. 

118 


POEMS  The  Rape  of  Lucrece 

The  aim  of  all  is  but  to  nurse  the  life 
With  honor,  wealth  and  ease,  in  waning  age; 
And  in  this  aim  there  is  such  thwarting  strife 
That  one  for  all  or  all  for  one  we  gage ; 
As  life  for  honor  in  fell  battle's  rage ; 

Honor  for  wealth;  and  oft  that  wealth  doth 
cost 

The  death  of  all,  and  all  together  lost. 


So  that  in  venturing  ill  we  leave  to  be 

The  things  we  are  for  that  which  we  expect ; 

And  this  ambitious  foul  infirmity,  150 

In  having  much,  torments  us  with  defect 

Of  that  we  have :  so  then  we  do  neglect 

The  thing  we  have,  and,  all  for  want  of  wit, 
Make  something  nothing  by  augmenting  it* 

Such  hazard  now  must  doting  Tarquin  make, 

Pawning  his  honor  to  obtain  his  lust ; 

And  for  himself  himself  he  must  forsake  : 

Then  where  is  truth,  if  there  be  no  self -trust? 

When  shall  he  think  to  find  a  stranger  just,  159 
When  he  himself  himself  confounds,  betrays 
To  slanderous  tongues  and  wretched  hateful 
days? 

Now  stole  upon  the  time  the  dead  of  night, 
When  heavy  sleep  had  closed  up  mortal  eyes; 
No  comfortable  star  did  lend  his  light, 
No  noise  but  owls'  and  wolves'  death-boding  cries; 


The  Rape  of  Lucrece  POEMS 

Now  serves  the  season  that  they  may  surprise 

The  silly  lambs:  pure  thoughts  are  dead  and 

still,  ' 
While  lust  and  murder  wakes  to  stain  and  kilL 


And  now  this  lustful  lord  leap'd  from  his  bed, 

Throwing  his  mantle  rudely  o'er  his  arm; 

Is  madly  toss'd  between  desire  and  dread; 

Th'  one  sweetly  flatters,  th'  other  feareth  harm; 

But  honest  fear,  bewitch'd  with  lust's  foul  charm, 
Doth  too  too  oft  betake  him  to  retire, 
Beaten  away  by  brain-sick  rude  desire. 


His  falchion  on  a  flint  he  softly  smiteth, 
That  from  the  cold  stone  sparks  of  fire  do  fly; 
Whereat  a  waxen  torch  forthwith  he  lighteth, 
Which  must  be  lode-star  to  his  lustful  eye  ; 
And  to  the  flaine  thus  speaks  advisedly:  180 

'As  from  this  cold  flint  I  enforced  this  fire, 
So  Lucrece  must  I  force  to  my  desire.' 


Here  pale  with  fear  he  doth  premeditate 
The  dangers  of  his  loathsome  enterprise, 
And  in  his  inward  mind  he  doth  debate 
What  following  sorrow  may  on  this  arise: 
Then  looking  scornfully  he  doth  despise 

His  naked  armor  of  still-slaughter'd  lust, 
And  justly  thus  controls  his  thoughts  unjust: 

169.  "leap'd";  having  leaped.— C.  H.  H. 
188.  "naked";  defenseless.— C.  H.  H. 
120 


POEMS  The  Raps  of  Lucrece 

'Fair  torch,  burn  out  thy  light,  and  lend  it  not    190 
To  darken  her  whose  light  excelleth  thine : 
And  die,  unhallow'd  thoughts,  before  you  blot 
With  your  uncleanness  that  which  is  divine; 
Offer  pure  incense  to  so  pure  a  shrine : 

Let  fair  humanity  abhor  the  deed 

That  spots   and  stains  love's   modest  snow- 
white  weed. 


*O  shame  to  knighthood  and  to  shining  arms! 

O  foul  dishonor  to  my  household's  grave ! 

O  impious  act,  including  all  foul  harms! 

A  martial  man  to  be  soft  fancy's  slave !  200 

True  valor  still  a  true  respect  should  have; 
Then  my  digression  is  so  vile,  so  base, 
That  it  will  live  engraven  in  my  face. 

"Yea,  though  I  die,  the  scandal  will  survive, 

And  be  an  eye-sore  in  my  golden  coat ; 

Some  loathsome  dash  the  herald  will  contrive, 

To  cipher  me  how  fondly  I  did  dote ; 

That  my  posterity,  shamed  with  the  note, 

Shall  curse  my  bones,  and  hold  it  for  no  »te 
To  wish  that  I  their  father  had  not  bin.        210 


'What  win  I,  if  I  gain  the  thing  I  seek? 
A  dream,  a  breath,  a  froth  of  fleeting  joy. 
Who  buys  a  minute's  mirth  to  wail  a  week? 
Or  sells  eternity  to  get  a  toy? 

195.  "W;  Schmidt  conj.  "/•***—!.  G. 
121 


The  Rape  of  Lucrece  POEMS 

For  one  sweet  grape  who  will  the  vine  destroy? 
Or  what  fond  beggar,  but  to  touch  the  crown, 
Would  with  the  scepter  straight  be  strucken 
down? 

'If  Collatinus  dream  of  my  intent, 
Will  he  not  wake,  and  in  a  desperate  rage 
Post  hither,  this  vile  purpose  to  prevent?  220 

This  siege  that  hath  engirt  his  marriage, 
This  blur  to  youth,  this  sorrow  to  the  sage, 
This  dying  virtue,  this  surviving  shame, 
Whose  crime  will  bear  an  ever-during  blame. 

*O  what  excuse  can  my  invention  make, 
When  thou  shalt  charge  me  with  so  black  a  deed? 
Will  not  my  tongue  be  mute,  my  frail  joints  shake, 
Mine  eyes  forgo  their  light,  my  false  heart  bleed? 
The  guilt  being  great,  the  fear  doth  still  exceed; 
And  extreme  fear  can  neither  fight  nor  fly,  230 
But  coward-like  with  trembling  terror  die. 

'Had  Collatinus  kill'd  my  son  or  sire, 
Or  lain  in  ambush  to  betray  my  life, 
Or  were  he  not  my  dear  friend,  this  desire 
Might  have  excuse  to  work  upon  his  wife, 
As  in  revenge  or  quittal  of  such  strife: 

But  as  he  is  my  kinsman,  my  dear  friend, 
The  shame  and  fault  finds  no  excuse  nor  end. 

'Shameful  it  is;  aye,  if -the  fact  be  known: 
Hateful  it  is;  there  is  no  hate  in  loving:  240 

239.  "aye,  if";  early  Qq.,  "I,  if."— I.  G. 

122 


POEMS  The  Rape  of  Lucrece 

I  '11  beg  her  love;  but  she  is  not  her  own: 
The  worst  is  but  denial  and  reproving: 
My  will  is  strong,  past  reason's  weak  removing. 
Who  fears  a  sentence  or  an  old  man's  saw 
Shall  by  a  painted  cloth  be  kept  in  awe/ 

Thus  graceless  holds  he  disputation 
'Tween  frozen  conscience  and  hot-burning  will, 
And  with  good  thoughts  makes  dispensation, 
[Urging  the  worser  sense  for  vantage  still; 
Which  in  a  moment  doth  confound  and  kill         250 
All  pure  effects,  and  doth  so  far  proceed 
That  what  is  vile  shows  like  a  virtuous  deed. 

'Quoth  he,  'she  took  me  kindly  by  the  hand, 
And  gazed  for  tidings  in  my  eager  eyes, 
Fearing  some  hard  news  from  the  warlike  band, 
Where  her  beloved  Collatinus  lies. 
O,  how  her  fear  did  make  her  color  rise! 
First  red  as  roses  that  on  lawn  we  lay, 
Then  white  as  lawn,  the  roses  took  away. 

'And  how  her  hand,  in  my  hand  being  lock'd,     260 
Forced  it  to  tremble  with  her  loyal  fear! 
Which  struck  her  sad,  and  then  it  faster  rock'd, 
Until  her  husband's  welfare  she  did  hear; 
Whereat  she  smiled  with  so  sweet  a  cheer 

That  had  Narcissus  seen  her  as  she  stood 
Self-love  had  never  drown'd  him  in  the  flood. 

245.  "by  a  painted  cloth";  in  the  old  tapestries,  or  painted  cloths,, 
moral  sentences  were  usually  wrought.  See  As  You  Like  It,  Act 
iii.  sc.  2.— H.  N.  H. 

259.  "took";  taken.— C.  H.  H. 

123 


The  Rape  of  Lucrece  POEMS 

Why  hunt  I  then  for  color  or  excuses? 
All  orators  are  dumb  when  beauty  pleadeth ; 
Poor  wretches  have  remorse  in  poor  abuses; 
Love  thrives  not  in  the  heart  that  shadows  dread- 
eth:  270 

Affection  is  my  captain,  and  he  leadeth; 

And  when  his  gaudy  banner  is  display'd, 
The  coward  fights,  and  will  not  be  dismay'd. 

'Then,  childish  fear  avaunt!  debating  die! 
Respect  and  reason  wait  on  wrinkled  age ! 
My  heart  shall  never  countermand  mine  eye: 
Sad  pause  and  deep  regard  beseems  the  sage; 
My  part  is  youth,  and  beats  these  from  the  stage: 

Desire  my  pilot  is,  beauty  my  prize ; 

Then  who  fears  sinking  where  such  treasure 
lies?'  280 

As  corn  o'ergrown  by  weeds,  so  heedful  fear 

Is  almost  choked  by  unresisted  lust. 

Away  he  steals  with  open  listening  ear, 

Full  of  foul  hope  and  full  of  fond  mistrust; 

Both  which,  as  servitors  to  the  unjust, 

So  cross  him  with  their  opposite  persuasion, 
That  now  he  vows  a  league,  and  now  invasion. 

Within  his  thought  her  heavenly  image  sits, 
And  in  the  self -same  seat  sits  Collatine : 
That  eye  which  looks  on  her  confounds  his  wits ;  290 
That  eye  which  him  beholds,  as  more  divine, 
Unto  a  view  so  false  will  not  incline ; 

But  with  a  pure  appeal  seeks  to  the  heart, 
Which  once  corrupted  takes  the  worser  part; 

124 


POEMS  The  Rape  of  Lucrece 

And  therein  heartens  up  his  servile  powers, 
Who,  flatter 'd  by  their  leader's  jocund  show, 
Stuff  up  his  lust,  as  minutes  fill  up  hours; 
And  as  their  captain,  so  their  pride  doth  grow, 
Paying  more  slavish  tribute  than  they  owe. 

By  reprobate  desire  thus  madly  led,  300 

The  Roman  lord  marcheth  to  Lucrece'  bed. 

The  locks  between  her  chamber  and  his  will, 
Each  one  by  him  enforced,  retires  his  ward; 
But,  as  they  open,  they  all  rate  his  ill, 
Which  drives  the  creeping  thief  to  some  regard: 
The  threshold  grates  the  door  to  have  him  heard; 

Night-wandering  weasels  shriek   to   see  him 
there; 

They  fright  him,  yet  he  still  pursues  his  fear. 

As  each  unwilling  portal  yields  him  way, 
Through  little  vents  and  crannies  of  the  place     310 
The  wind  wars  with  his  torch  to  make  him  stay, 
And  blows  the  smoke  of  it  into  his  face, 
Extinguishing  his  conduct  in  this  case ; 

But  his  hot  heart,   which   fond   desire   doth 
scorch, 

Puffs  forth  another  wind  that  fires  the  torch : 

And  being  lighted,  Iby  the  light  he  spies 
Lucretia's  glove,  wherein  her  needle  sticks : 
He  takes  it  from  the  rushes  where  it  lies, 
And  griping  it,  the  needle  his  finger  pricks ; 

318.  "from  the  rushes";  apartments  in  England  were  strewed  with 
rushes  in  the  time  of  our  author-. — H.  N.  H. 

125 


The  Rape  of  Lucrece  POEMS 

As  who  should  say  'This  glove  to  wanton  tricks  320 
Is  not  inured ;  return  again  in  haste ; 
Thou  see'st  our  mistress'  ornaments  are  chaste/ 

But  all  these  poor  for  biddings  could  not  stay  him; 
He  in  the  worst  sense  construes  their  denial: 
The  doors,  the  wind,  the  glove,  that  did  delay  him, 
He  takes  for  accidental  things  of  trial ; 
Or  as  those  bars  which  stop  the  hourly  dial, 

Who  with  a  lingering  stay  his  course  doth  let, 
Till  every  minute  pays  the  hour  his  debt. 

'So,  so,'  quoth  he,  'these  lets  attend  the  time,       330 
Like  little  frosts  that  sometime  threat  the  spring, 
To  add  a  more  rejoicing  to  the  prime, 
And  give  the  sneaped  birds  more  cause  to  sing. 
Pain  pays  the  income  of  each  precious  thing ; 

Huge  rocks,  high  winds,  strong  pirate,  shelves 
and  sands, 

The  merchant  fears,  ere  rich  at  home  he  lands/ 

Now  is  he  come  unto  the  chamber  door, 
That  shuts  him  from  the  heaven  of  his  thought, 
Which  with  a  yielding  latch,  and  with  no  more, 
Hath  barr'd  him  from  the  blessed  thing  he  sought. 
So  from  himself  impiety  hath  wrought,  341 

That  for  his  prey  to  pray  he  doth  begin, 
As  if  the  heavens  should  countenance  his  sin. 

But  in  the  midst  of  his  unfruitful  prayer, 
Having  solicited  the  eternal  power 

330.  "lets";  obstacles.— C.  H.  H. 
126 


POEMS  The  Rape  of  Lucrece 

That  his  foul  thoughts  might  compass  his  fair  fair, 
And  they  would  stand  auspicious  to  the  hour, 
Even  there  he  starts:  quoth  he,  'I  must  deflower: 

The  powers  to  whom  I  pray  abhor  this  fact; 

How  can  they  then  assist  me  in  the  act?      350 


"Then  Love  and  Fortune  be  my  gods,  my  guide ! 

My  will  is  back'd  with  resolution : 

Thoughts  are  but  dreams  till  their  eff ects  be  tried ; 

The  blackest  sin  is  clear 'd  with  absolution; 

Against  love's  fire  fear's  frost  hath  dissolution. 
The  eye  of  heaven  is  out,  and  misty  night 
Covers  the  shame  that  follows  sweet  delight.' 

This  said,  his  guilty  hand  pluck'd  up  the  latch, 
And  with  his  knee  the  door  he  opens  wide.         359 
The  dove  sleeps  fast  that  this  night-owl  will  catch: 
Thus  treason  works  ere  traitors  be  espied. 
Who  sees  the  lurking  serpent  steps  aside ; 

But  she,  sound  sleeping,  fearing  no  such  thing, 
Lies  at  the  mercy  of  his  mortal  sting. 


Into  the  chamber  wickedly  he  stalks 
And  gazeth  on  her  yet  unstained  bed. 
The  curtains  being  close,  about  he  walks, 
Rolling  his  greedy  eyeballs  in  his  head : 
By  their  high  treason  is  his  heart  misled ; 

Which  gives  the  watch-word  to  his  hand  full 
soon  370 

To  draw  the  cloud  that  hides  the  silver  moon. 

'127 


The  Rape  of  Lucrece  POEMS 

Look,  as  the  fair  and  fiery-pointed  sun, 
Rushing  from  forth  a  cloud,  bereaves  our  sight; 
Even  so,  the  curtain  drawn,  his  eyes  begun 
To  wink,  being  blinded  with  a  greater  light : 
Whether  it  is  that  she  reflects  so  bright, 

That  dazzleth  them,  or  else  some  shame  sup- 
posed ; 

But  blind  they  are,  and  keep  themselves  en- 
closed. 

O,  had  they  in  that  darksome  prison  died! 
Then  had  they  seen  the  period  of  their  ill;  380 

Then  Collatine  again,  by  Lucrece'  side, 
In  his  clear  bed  might  have  reposed  still : 
But  they  must  ope,  this  blessed  league  to  kill ; 
And  holy-thoughted  Lucrece  to  their  sight 
Must  sell  her  joy,  her  life,  her  world's  delight. 

Her  lily  hand  her  rosy  cheek  lies  under, 

Cozening  the  pillow  of  a  lawful  kiss ; 

Who,  therefore  angry,  seems  to  part  in  sunder, 

Swelling  on  either  side  to  want  his  bliss; 

Between  whose  hills  her  head  entombed  is :         390 
Where,  like  a  virtuous  monument,  she  lies, 
To  be  admired  of  lewd  unhallow'd  eyes. 

Without  the  bed  her  other  fair  hand  was, 
On  the  green  coverlet ;  whose  perfect  white 
Show'd  like  an  April  daisy  on  the  grass, 
With  pearly  sweat,  resembling  dew  of  night. 
Her  eyes,  like  marigolds,  had  sheathed  their  light, 
And  canopied  in  darkness  sweetly  lay, 
Till  they  might  open  to  adorn  the  day. 

128 


POEMS  The  Rape  of  Lucrece 

Her  hair,   like  golden  threads,   play'd   with  her 
breath;  400 

O  modest  wantons!  wanton  modesty! 
Showing  life's  triumph  in  the  map  of  death, 
And  death's  dim  look  in  life's  mortality: 
Each  in  her  sleep  themselves  so  beautify 

As  if  between  them  twain  there  were  no  strif e, 
But  that  life  lived  in  death  and  death  in  life. 

Her  breasts,  like  ivory  globes  circled  with  blue, 
A  pair  of  maiden  worlds  unconquered, 
Save  of  their  lord  no  bearing  yoke  they  knew, 
And  him  by  oath  they  truly  honored.  410 

These  worlds  in  Tarquin  new  ambition  bred; 
Who,  like  a  foul  usurper,  went  about 
From  this  fair  throne  to  heave  the  owner  out. 

What  could  he  see  but  mightily  he  noted? 

What  did  he  note  but  strongly  he  desired? 

What  he  beheld,  on  that  he  firmly  doted, 

And  in  his  will  his  wilful  eye  he  tired. 

With  more  than  admiration  he  admired 
Her  azure  veins,  her  alabaster  skin, 
Her  coral  lips,  her  snow-white  dimpled  chin. 

As  the  grim  lion  f  awneth  o'er  his  prey,  421 

Sharp  hunger  by  the  conquest  satisfied, 
So  o'er  this  sleeping  soul  doth  Tarquin  stay, 
His  rage  of  lust  by  gazing  qualified; 
Slack'd,  not  suppress'd;  for  standing  by  her  side, 
His  eye,  which  late  this  mutiny  restrains, 
Unto  a  greater  uproar  tempts  his  veins: 

XXXIX— 9 


The  Rape  of  Lucrece  POEMS 

And  they,  like  straggling  slaves  for  pillage  fight- 
ing, 

Obdurate  vassals  fell  exploits  effecting, 
In  bloody  death  and  ravishment  delighting,        430 
Nor  children's  tears  nor  mothers'  groans  respecting, 
Swell  in  their  pride,  the  onset  still  expecting : 
Anon  his  beating  heart,  alarum  striking, 
Gives  the  hot  charge,  and  bids  them  do  their 
liking. 

His  drumming  heart  cheers  up  his  burning  eye, 
His  eye  commends  the  leading  to  his  hand ; 
His  hand,  as  proud  of  such  a  dignity, 
Smoking  with  pride,  march'd  on  to  make  his  stand 
On  her  bare  breast,  the  heart  of  all  her  land ; 

Whose  ranks  of  blue  veins,  as  his  hand  did 
scale,  440 

Left  their  round  turrets  destitute  and  pale. 

They,  mustering  to  the  quiet  cabinet 
Where  their  dear  governess  and  lady  lies, 
Do  tell  her  she  is  dreadfully  beset, 
And  fright  her  with  confusion  of  their  cries : 
She,  much  amazed,  breaks  ope  her  lock'd-up  eyes, 
Who,  peeping  forth  this  tumult  to  behold, 
Are  by  his  flaming  torch  dimm'd  and  con- 
troll'd. 

Imagine  her  as  one  in  dead  of  night  449 

From  forth  dull  sleep  by  dreadful  fancy  waking, 
That  thinks  she  hath  beheld  some  ghastly  sprite, 

436.  "leading";  command.— C.  H.  H. 
130 


POEMS  The  Rape  of  Lucrece 

Whose  grim  aspect  sets  every  joint  a-shaking; 

What  terror  'tis !  but  she,  in  worser  taking, 

From  sleep  disturbed,  heedfully  doth  view 
The  sight  which  makes  supposed  terror  true. 

Wrapp'd  and  confounded  in  a  thousand  fears, 
Like  to  a  new-kill'd  bird  she  trembling  lies ; 
She  dares  not  look;  yet,  winking,  there  appears 
Quick-shifting  antics,  ugly  in  her  eyes : 
Such  shadows  are  the  weak  brain's  forgeries;     460 
Who,  angry  that  the  eyes  fly  from  their  lights, 
In  darkness  daunts  them  with  more  dreadful 
sights. 

His  hand,  that  yet  remains  upon  her  breast, — 
Rude  ram,  to  batter  such  an  ivory  wall!— 
May  feel  her  heart,  poor  citizen !  distress'd, 
Wounding  itself  to  death,  rise  up  and  fall, 
Beating  her  bulk,  that  his  hand  shakes  withal. 
This  moves  in  him  more  rage  and  lesser  pity, 
To  make  the  breach  and  enter  this  sweet  city. 

First,  like  a  trumpet,  doth  his  tongue  begin         470 
To  sound  a  parley  to  his  heartless  foe ; 
Who  o'er  the  white  sheet  peers  her  whiter  chin, 
The  reason  of  this  rash  alarm  to  know, 
Which  he  by  dumb  demeanor  seeks  to  show ; 
But  she  with  vehement  prayers  urgeth  still 
Under  what  color  he  commits  this  ill. 

453.  "taking";  agony  of  alarm.    The  word  still  survives  as  a  vulgar- 
ism.--^. H.  H. 

131 


The  Rape  of  Lucrece  POEMS 

Thus  he  replies:  'The  color  in  thy  face, 

That  even  for  anger  makes  the  lily  pale 

And  the  red  rose  blush  at  her  own  disgrace, 

Shall  plead  for  me  and  tell  my  loving  tale:       480 

Under  that  color  am  I  come  to  scale 

Thy  never-conquer'd  fort:  the  fault  is  thine, 
For  those  thine  eyes  betray  thee  unto  mine. 

'Thus  I  forestall  thee,  if  thou  mean  to  chide: 
Thy  beauty  hath  ensnared  thee  to  this  night, 
Where  thou  with  patience  must  my  will  abide ; 
My  will  that  marks  thee  for  my  earth's  delight, 
Which  I  to  conquer  sought  with  all  my  might; 
But  as  reproof  and  reason  beat  it  dead, 
By  thy  bright  beauty  was  it  newly  bred.     490 

4I  see  what  crosses  my  attempt  will  bring ; 

I  know  what  thorns  the  growing  rose  defends; 

I  think  the  honey  guarded  with  a  sting; 

All  this  beforehand  counsel  comprehends: 

But  will  is  deaf  and  hears  no  heedful  friends ; 
Only  he  hath  an  eye  to  gaze  on  beauty, 
And  dotes  on  what  he  looks,  'gainst  law  or 
duty. 

'I  have  debated,  even  in  my  soul, 

What  wrong,  what  shame,  what  sorrow  I  shall 

breed; 

But  nothing  can  affection's  course  control,         500 
Or  stop  the  headlong  fury  of  his  speed. 
I  know  repentant  tears  ensue  the  deed, 

Reproach,  disdain  and  deadly  enmity ; 

kYet  strive  I  to  embrace  mine  infamy.' 

132 


POEMS  The  Rape  of  Lucrece 

This  said,  he  shakes  aloft  his  Roman  blade, 
Which,  like  a  falcon  towering  in  the  skies, 
Coucheth  the  fowl  below  with  his  wing's  shade, 
Whose  crooked  beak  threats  if  he  mount  he  dies: 
So  under  his  insulting  falchion  lies 

Harmless  Lucretia,  marking  what  he  tells    510 
With  trembling  fear,  as  fowl  hear  falcon's, 
bells. 

'Lucrece,'  quoth  he,  'this  night  I  must  enjoy  thee: 
If  thou  deny,  then  force  must  work  my  way, 
For  in  thy  bed  I  purpose  to  destroy  thee: 
That  done,  some  worthless  slave  of  thine  I  '11  slay,, 
To  kill  thine  honor  with  thy  life's  decay; 

And  in  thy  dead  arms  do  I  mean  to  place  himr 
Swearing  I  slew  him,  seeing  thee  embrace  him. 

'So  thy  surviving  husband  shall  remain 

The  scornful  mark  of  every  open  eye;  520 

Thy  kinsmen  hang  their  heads  at  this  disdain, 

Thy  issue  blurr'd  with  nameless  bastardy : 

And  thou,  the  author  of  their  obloquy 

Shalt  have  thy  trespass  cited  up  in  rhymes 
And  sung  by  children  in  succeeding  times. 

'But  if  thou  yield,  I  rest  thy  secret  friend: 

The  fault  unknown  is  as  a  thought  unacted; 

A  little  harm  done  to  a  great  good  end 

For  lawful  policy  remains  enacted. 

The  poisonous  simple  sometime  is  compacted    53d 

In  a  pure  compound;  being  so  applied, 

His  venom  in  effect  is  purified. 

133 


The  Rape  of  Lucrece  POEMS 

*Then,  for  thy  husband  and  thy  children's  sake, 
Tender  my  suit :  bequeath  not  to  their  lot 
The  shame  that  from  them  no  device  can  take, 
The  blemish  that  will  never  be  forgot ; 
Worse  than  a  slavish  wipe  or  birth-hour's  blot: 
For  marks  descried  in  men's  nativity 
Are  nature's  faults,  not  their  own  infamy.' 

Here  with  a  cockatrice'  dead-killing  eye  540 

He  rouseth  up  himself,  and  makes  a  pause ; 
While  she,  the  picture  of  true  piety, 
Like  a  white  hind  under  the  gripe's  sharp  claws, 
Pleads,  in  a  wilderness  where  are  no  laws, 

To  the  rough  beast  that  knows  no  gentle  right 
Nor  aught  obeys  but  his  foul  appetite. 

But  when  a  black-faced  cloud  the  world  doth  threat, 
In  his  dim  mist  the  aspiring  mountains  hiding, 
From  earth's  dark  womb  some  gentle  gust  doth  get, 
Which  blows  these  pitchy  vapors  from  their  biding, 
Hindering  their  present  fall  by  this  dividing ;     551 
So  his  unhallow'd  haste  her  words  delays, 
And  moody  Pluto  winks  while  Orpheus  plays. 

Yet,  foul  night-waking  cat,  he  doth  but  dally, 
While  in  his  hold- fast  foot  the  weak  mouse  panteth : 
Her  sad  behavior  feeds  his  vulture  folly, 
A  swallowing  gulf  that  even  in  plenty  wanteth ; 
His  ear  her  prayers  admits,  but  his  heart  granteth 
No  penetrable  entrance  to  her  plaining: 
Tears  harden  lust,  though  marble  wear  with 
raining.  560 

134 


POEMS  The  Rape  of  Lucrece 

Her  pity-pleading  eyes  are  sadly  fixed 
In  'the  remorseless  wrinkles  of  his  face ; 
Her  modest  eloquence  with  sighs  is  mixed, 
Which  to  her  oratory  adds  more  grace. 
She  puts  the  period  often  from  his  place, 

And  midst  the  sentence  so  her  accent  breaks 
That  twice  she  doth  begin  ere  once  she  speaks* 

She  conjures  him  by  high  almighty  Jove, 

By   knighthood,    gentry,   and   sweet    friendship's 

oath, 

By  her  untimely  tears,  her  husband's  love,  570 

By  holy  human  law  and  common  troth, 
By  heaven  and  earth,  and  all  the  power  of  both, 
That  to  his  borrow'd  bed  he  make  retire, 
And  stoop  to  honor,  not  to  foul  desire. 

Quoth  she :  'Reward  not  hospitality 

With  such  black  payment  as  thou  hast  pretended; 

Mud  not  the  fountain  that  gave  drink  to  thee ; 

Mar  not  the  thing  that  cannot  be  amended; 

End  thy  ill  aim  before  thy  shoot  be  ended; 

He  is  no  woodman  that  doth  bend  his  bow   580 
To  strike  a  poor  unseasonable  doe. 

'My  husband  is  thy  friend ;  for  his  sake  spare  me : 
Thyself  art  mighty ;  for  thine  own  sake  leave  me : 
Myself  a  weakling ;  do  not  then  ensnare  me : 
Thou  look'st  not  like  deceit;  do  not  deceive  me. 
My  sighs,  like  whirlwinds,  labor  hence  to  heave  thee : 
If  ever  man  were  moved  with  woman's  moans, 
Be  moved  with  my  tears,  my  sighs,  my  groans : 

574.  "stoop";  yield.— C.  H.  H. 
135 


The  Rape  of  Lucrece  POEMS 

"All  which  together,  like  a  troubled  ocean, 

Beat  at  thy  rocky  and  wreck-threatening  heart,  590 

To  soften  it  with  their  continual  motion ; 

For  stones  dissolved  to  water  do  convert. 

O,  if  no  harder  than  a  stone  thou  art, 

Melt  at  my  tears,  and  be  compassionate! 

Soft  pity  enters  at  an  iron  gate. 

'In  Tarquin's  likeness  I  did  entertain  thee: 
Hast  thou  put  on  his  shape  to  do  him  shame? 
To  all  the  host  of  heaven  I  complain  me, 
Thou  wrong'st  his  honor,  wound'st  his  princely 
name.  600 

Thou  art  not  what  thou  seem'st;  and  if  the  same, 
Thou  seem'st  not  what  thou  art,  a  god,  a  king ; 
For  kings,   like   gods,   should   govern   every 
thing. 

*How  will  thy  shame  be  seeded  in  thine  age, 
When  thus  thy  vices  bud  before  thy  spring! 
If  in  thy  hope  thou  darest  do  such  outrage, 
What  darest  thou  not  when  once  thou  art  a  king? 
O,  be  remember'd,  no  outrageous  thing 

From  vassal  actors  can  be  wiped  away ; 

Then  kings'  misdeeds  cannot  be  hid  in  clay. 

"This  deed  will  make  thee  only  loved  for  fear;  610 
But  happy  monarchs  still  are  f ear'd  for  love : 
With  foul  offenders  thou  perforce  must  bear, 
When  they  in  thee  the  like  offenses  prove : 
If  but  for  fear  of  this,  thy  will  remove ; 

For  princes  are  the  glass,  the  school,  the  book, 
Where  subjects'  eyes  do  learn,  do  read,  do  look. 
136 


POEMS  The  Rape  of  Lucrece 

"And  wilt  thou  be  the  school  where  Lust  shall  learn? 
Must  he  in  thee  read  lectures  of  such  shame? 
Wilt  thou  be  glass  wherein  it  shall  discern 
Authority  for  sin,  warrant  for  blame,  620 

To  privilege  dishonor  in  thy  name? 

Thou    back'st    reproach    against    long-living 
laud, 

And  makest  fair  reputation  but  a  bawd. 

'Hast  thou  command?  by  him  that  gave  it  thee, 
From  a  pure  heart  command  thy  rebel  will : 
Draw  not  thy  sword  to  guard  iniquity, 
For  it  was  lent  thee  all  that  brood  to  kill. 
Thy  princely  office  how  canst  thou  fulfil, 

When,  pattern'd  by  thy  fault,  foul  sin  may  say 
He  learn'd  to  sin  and  thou  didst  teach  the  way? 

'Think  but  how  vile  a  spectacle  it  were,  631 

To  view  thy  present  trespass  in  another 
Men's  faults  do  seldom  to  themselves  appear; 
Their  own  transgressions  partially  they  smother: 
This    guilt    would    seem    death-worthy    in    thy 

brother. 

O,  how  are  they  wrapp'd  in  with  infamies 
That  from  their  own  misdeeds  askance  their 
eyes! 

'To  thee,  to  thee,  my  heaved-up  hands  appeal. 
Not  to  seducing  lust,  thy  rash  relier : 

637.  i.  e.  "who,  in  consequence  of  their  own  misdeeds,  look  with 
indifference  on  the  offenses  of  others"  (Schmidt). — I.  G. 

639.  "thy  rash  relier";  i.  e.  (Lust),  "which  confides  too  rashly  in 
thy  present  disposition"    (Schmidt).— C.  H.  H. 

137 


The  Eape  of  Lucrece  POEMS 

I  sue  for  exiled  majesty's  repeal;  640 

Let  him  return,  and  flattering  thoughts  retire : 
His  true  respect  will  prison  false  desire, 

And  wipe  the  dim  mist  from  thy  doting  eyne, 
That  thou  shalt  see  thy  state  and  pity  mine/ 

'Have  done,'  quoth  he :  'my  uncontrolled  tide 
Turns  not,  but  swells  the  higher  by  this  let. 
Small  lights  are  soon  blown  out,  huge  fires  abide, 
And  with  the  wind  in  greater  fury  fret: 
The  petty  streams  that  pay  a  daily  debt 

To  their  salt  sovereign,  with  their  fresh  falls' 
haste  650 

Add  to  his  flow,  but  alter  not  his  taste.' 

'Thou  art,'  quoth  she,  'a  sea,  a  sovereign  king; 
And,  lo,  there  falls  into  thy  boundless  flood 
Black  lust,  dishonor,  shame,  misgoverning, 
Who  seek  to  stain  the  ocean  of  thy  blood. 
If  all  these  petty  ills  shall  change  thy  good, 

Thy  sea  within  a  puddle's  womb  is  hearsed, 
And  not  the  puddle  in  thy  sea  dispersed. 

'So  shall  these  slaves  be  king,  and  thou  their  slave; 
Thou  nobly  base,  they  basely  dignified ;  660 

Thou  their  fair  life,  and  they  thy  fouler  grave: 
Thou  loathed  in  their  shame,  they  in  thy  pride: 
The  lesser  thing  should  not  the  greater  hide ; 

The  cedar  stoops  not  to  the  base  shrub's  foot, 
But  low  shrubs  wither  at  the  cedar's  root. 

649.  "debt";  early  Qq.,  "det"   (rhyming  with  "fret") ;  similarly  1. 
696,  "balk";  Qq.,  "bank"  (rhyming  with  "hawk").— I.  G. 

138 


POEMS  The  Rape  of  Lucrece 

'So  let  thy  thoughts,  low  vassals  to  thy  state' — 
more/  quoth  he;  'by  heaven,  I  will  not  hear 

thee: 

Yield  to  my  love;  if  not,  enforced  hate, 
Instead  of  love's  coy  touch,  shall  rudely  tear  thee : 
That  done,  despitefully  I  mean  to  bear  thee      670 
Unto  the  base  bed  of  some  rascal  groom, 
To  be  thy  partner  in  this  shameful  doom/ 

This  said,  he  sets  his  foot  upon  the  light, 
For  light  and  lust  are  deadly  enemies: 
Shame  folded  up  in  blind  concealing  night, 
When  most  unseen,  then  most  doth  tyrannize. 
The  wolf  hath  seized  his  prey,  the  poor  lamb  cries ; 

Till  with  her  own  white  fleece  her  voice  con- 
troll'd 

Entombs  her  outcry  in  her  lips'  sweet  fold: 

For  with  the  nightly  linen  that  she  wears  680 

He  pens  her  piteous  clamors  in  her  head, 
Cooling  his  hot  face  in  the  chastest  tears 
That  ever  modest  eyes  with  sorrow  shed. 
O,  that  prone  lust  should  stain  so  pure  a  bed! 
The  spots  whereof  could  weeping  purify, 
Her  tears  should  drop  on  them  perpetually. 

But  she  hath  lost  a  dearer  thing  than  life, 
And  he  hath  won  what  he  would  lose  again : 
This  forced  league  doth  force  a  further  strife; 
This  momentary  joy  breeds  months  of  pain;     690 
This  hot  desire  converts  to  cold  disdain: 
Pure  Chastity  is  rifled  of  her  store, 
And  Lust,  the  thief,  far  poorer  than  before. 

139 


The  Rape  of  Lucrece  POEMS 

Look,  as  the  full-fed  hound  or  gorged  hawk, 
Unapt  for  tender  smell  or  speedy  flight, 
Make  slow  pursuit,  or  altogether  balk 
The  prey  wherein  by  nature  they  delight, 
So  surfeit-taking  Tarquin  fares  this  night : 
His  taste  delicious,  in  digestion  souring, 
Devours  his  will,  that  lived  by  foul  devour- 
ing. 700 

O,  deeper  sin  than  bottomless  conceit 

Can  comprehend  in  still  imagination! 

Drunken  Desire  must  vomit  his  receipt, 

Ere  he  can  see  his  own  abomination. 

While  Lust  is  in  his  pride,  no  exclamation 
Can  curb  his  heat  or  rein  his  rash  desire, 
Till,  like  a  jade,  Self-will  himself  doth  tire. 

And  then  with  lank  and  lean  discolor'd  cheek, 
With  heavy  eye,  knit  brow,  and  strengthless  pace, 
Feeble  Desire,  all  recreant,  poor  and  meek,         710 
Like  to  a  bankrupt  beggar  wails  his  case: 
The  flesh  being  proud,  Desire  doth  fight  with  Grace, 
For  there  it  revels,  and  when  that  decays 
The  guilty  rebel  for  remission  prays. 

So  fares  it  with  this  f aultful  lord  of  Rome, 
Who  this  accomplishment  so  hotly  chased ; 
For  now  against  himself  he  sounds  this  doom, 
That  through  the  length  of  times  he  stands  dis- 
graced : 

Besides,  his  soul's  fair  temple  is  defaced,  719 

To  whose  weak  ruins  muster  troops  of  cares, 
To  ask  the  spotted  princess  how  she  fares. 

140 


POEMS  The  Rape  of  Lucrece 

She  says,  her  subjects  with  foul  insurrection 
Have  batter'd  down  her  consecrated  wall, 
And  by  their  mortal  fault  brought  in  subjection 
Her  immortality,  and  made  her  thrall 
To  living  death  and  pain  perpetual: 

Which  in  her  prescience  she  controlled  still, 
But  her  foresight  could  not  forestall  their  will. 

Even  in  this  thought  through  the  dark  night  he 

stealeth, 

A  captive  victor  that  hath  lost  in  gain ;  730 

Bearing  away  the  wound  that  nothing  healeth, 
The  scar  that  will,  despite  of  cure,  remain; 
Leaving  his  spoil  perplex'd  in  greater  pain. 
She  bears  the  load  of  lust  he  left  behind, 
And  he  the  burden  of  a  guilty  mind. 

He  like  a  thievish  dog  creeps  sadly  thence; 
She  like  a  wearied  lamb  lies  panting  there ; 
He  scowls,  and  hates  himself  for  his  offense; 
She,  desperate,  with  her  nails  her  flesh  doth  tear; 
He  faintly  flies,  sweating  with  guilty  fear ;         740 

She  stays,  exclaiming  on  the  direful  night; 

He  runs,  and  chides  his  vanished,  loathed  de- 
light. 

He  thence  departs  a  heavy  convertite; 

She  there  remains  a  hopeless  cast-away; 

He  in  his  speed  looks  for  the  morning  light; 

She  prays  she  never  may  behold  the  day, 

Tor  day/  quoth  she,  'night's  'scapes  doth  open  lay, 
And  my  true  eyes  have  never  practiced  how 
To  cloak  offenses  with  a  cunning  brow. 


The  Rape  of  Lucrece  POEMS 

'They  think  not  but  that  every  eye  can  see        750 
The  same  disgrace  which  they  themselves  behold ; 
And  therefore  would  they  still  in  darkness  be, 
To  have  their  unseen  sin  remain  untold ; 
For  they  their  guilt  with  weeping  will  unfold, 
And  grave,  like  water  that  doth  eat  in  steel, 
Upon  my  cheeks  what  helpless  shame  I  feel/ 

Here  she  exclaims  against  repose  and  rest, 
And  bids  her  eyes  hereafter  still  be  blind. 
She  wakes  her  heart  by  beating  on  her  breast, 
And  bids  it  leap  from  thence,  where  it  may  find  760 
Some  purer  chest  to  close  so  pure  a  mind. 

Frantic  with  grief  thus  breathes  she  forth  her 
spite 

Against  the  unseen  secrecy  of  night: 

'O  comfort-killing  Night,  image  of  hell! 

Dim  register  and  notary  of  shame! 

Black  stage  for  tragedies  and  murders  fell! 

Vast  sin-concealing  chaos !  nurse  of  blame ! 

Blind  muffled  bawd!  dark  harbor  for  defame! 
Grim  cave  of  death!  whispering  conspirator 
With  close-tongued  treason  and  the  ravisher! 

'O  hateful,  vaporous  and  foggy  Night!  771 

Since  thou  art  guilty  of  my  cureless  crime, 
Muster  thy  mists  to  meet  the  eastern  light, 
Make  war  against  proportioned  course  of  time; 
Or  if  thou  wilt  permit  the  sun  to  climb 

His  wonted  height,  yet  ere  he  go  to  bed, 
Knit  poisonous  clouds  about  his  golden  head. 

766.  "Black  stage"  etc.;  alluding  to  the  black  hangings  used  on 
the  stage  when  tragedies  were  performed. — C.  H.  H. 

1/10 


POEMS  The  Rape  of  Lucrece 

'With  rotten  damps  ravish  the  morning  air; 
Let  their  exhaled  unwholesome  breaths  make  sick 
The  life  of  purity,  the  supreme  fair,  780 

Ere  he  arrive  his  weary  noon-tide  prick; 
And  let  thy  misty  vapors  march  so  thick 

That  in  their  smoky  ranks  his  smother'd  light 
May  set  at  noon  and  make  perpetual  night. 

"Were  Tarquin  Night,  as  he  is  but  Night's  child, 
The  silver-shining  queen  he  would  distain; 
Her  twinkling  handmaids  too,  by  him  defiled, 
Through   Night's  black  bosom  should  not  peep 

again : 
So  should  I  have  co-partners  in  my  pain ; 

And  fellowship  in  woe  doth  woe  assuage,    790 
As  palmers'  chat  makes  short  their  pilgrimage. 

Where  now  I  have  no  one  to  blush  with  me, 

To  cross  their  arms  and  hang  their  heads  with  mine, 

To  mask  their  brows  and  hide  their  infamy ; 

But  I  alone  alone  must  sit  and  pine, 

Seasoning  the  earth  with  showers  of  silver  brine, 

Mingling  my  talk  with  tears,  my  grief  with 
groans, 

Poor  wasting  monuments  of  lasting  moans. 

CO  Night,  thou  furnace  of  foul-reeking  smoke, 
Let  not  the  jealous  Day  behold  that  face  800 

Which  underneath  thy  black  all-hiding  cloak 

782.  "misty";  Qq.  1,  2,  "mustie."—!.  G. 
786.  "distain";  defile.— C.  H.  H. 

793.  Folded  arms  were  a  recognized  sign  of  melancholy. — C.  H.  H. 

143 


The  Rape  of  Lucrece  POEMS 

Immodestly  lies  martyr'd  with  disgrace! 

Keep  still  possession  of  thy  gloomy  place, 

That  all  the  faults  which  in  thy  reign  are  made 
May  likewise  be  sepulchered  in  thy  shade! 

'Make  me  not  object  to  the  tell-tale  Day! 
The  light  will  show,  character'd  in  my  brow, 
The  story  of  sweet  chastity's  decay, 
The  impious  breach  of  holy  wedlock  vow: 
Yea,  the  illiterate,  that  know  not  how  810 

To  cipher  what  is  writ  in  learned  books, 
Will  quote  my  loathsome  trespass  in  my  looks. 

'The  nurse,  to  still  her  child,  will  tell  my  story, 

And  fright  her  crying  babe  with  Tarquin's  name ; 

The  orator,  to  deck  his  oratory, 

Will  couple  my  reproach  to  Tarquin's  shame; 

Feast-finding  minstrels,  tuning  my  defame, 
Will  tie  the  hearers  to  attend  each  line, 
How  Tarquin  wronged  me,  I  Collatine. 

'Let  my  good  name,  that  senseless  reputation,     820 
For  Collatine's  dear  love  be  kept  unspotted: 
If  that  he  made  a  theme  for  disputation, 
The  branches  of  another  root  are  rotted, 
And  undeserved  reproach  to  him  allotted 
That  is  as  clear  from  this  attaint  of  mine 
As  I,  ere  this,  was  pure  to  Collatine. 

'O  unseen  shame!  invisible  disgrace! 

O  unfelt  sore!  crest-wounding,  private  scar! 

Reproach  is  stamp'd  in  Collatinus'  face, 

144 


The  Rape  of  Lucrece 

And  Tarquin's  eye  may  read  the  mot  afar,         830 
How  he  in  peace  is  wounded,  not  in  war. 

Alas,  how  many  bear  such  shameful  blows, 
Which  not  themselves,  but  he  that  gives  them 
knows ! 

If,  Collatine,  thine  honor  lay  in  me, 

From  me  by  strong  assault  it  is  bereft. 

My  honey  lost,  and  I,  a  drone-like  bee, 

Have  no  perfection  of  my  summer  left, 

robb'd  and  ransack'd  by  injurious  theft: 
In  thy  weak  hive  .a  wandering  wasp  hath  crept, 
And  suck'd  the  honey  which  thy  chaste  bee 
kept.  840 

Yet  am  I  guilty  of  thy  honor's  wrack ; 
Yet  for  thy  honor  did  I  entertain  him; 
'oming  from  thee,  I  could  not  put  him  back, 
or  it  had  been  dishonor  to  disdain  him : 
Besides,  of  weariness  he  did  complain  him, 
And  talk'd  of  virtue :  O  unlook'd-f  or  evil, 
When  virtue  is  profaned  in  such  a  devil ! 

Why  should  the  worm  intrude  the  maiden  bud? 
Or  hateful  cuckoos  hatch  in  sparrows'  nests? 
Or  toads  infect  fair  founts  with  venom  mud?      850 

841.  "guilty";  Malone,  "guiltless"  but  no  change  is  necessary; 
Lucrece's  self-reproach  at  first  assigns  the  guilt  to  herself. — I.  G. 

849.  "Or  hateful  cuckoos  hatch";  the  cuckoo's  naughty  custom  of 
stealing  her  eggs  into  the  sparrow's  nest,  and  there  leaving  them  to 
be  hatched  by  the  gentle  owner,  is  often  alluded  to  by  the  old 
poets.  Hence,  perhaps,  the  notion  of  the  cuckoo  mocking  married 
men,  in  the  song  at  the  end  of  Love's  Labor's  Lost.  See  1  Henry  IV > 
Act  v.  sc.  1.— H.  N.  H. 

XXXIX— 10  145 


TEe  Rape  of  Lucrece  POEMS 

Or  tyrant  folly  lurk  in  gentle  breasts? 

Or  kings  be  breakers  of  their  own  behests? 
But  no  perfection  is  so  absolute 
That  some  impurity  doth  not  pollute. 


'The  aged  man  that  coffers  up  his  gold 

Is  plagued  with  cramps  and  gouts  and  painful  fits, 

And  scarce  hath  eyes  his  treasure  to  behold, 

But  like  still-pining  Tantalus  he  sits 

And  useless  barns  the  harvest  of  his  wits, 

Having  no  other  pleasure  of  his  gain  860 

But  torment  that  it  cannot  cure  his  pain. 

'So  then  he  hath  it  when  he  cannot  use  it, 
And  leaves  it  to  be  master'd  by  his  young; 
Who  in  their  pride  do  presently  abuse  it: 
Their  father  was  too  weak,  and  they  too  strong, 
To  hold  their  cursed-blessed  fortune  long. 

The  sweets  we  wish  for  turn  to  loathed  sours 
Even  in  the  moment  that  we  call  them  ours. 


'Unruly  blasts  wait  on  the  tender  spring ; 

Unwholesome  weeds  take  root  with  precious  flow- 
ers; 870 

The  adder  hisses  where  the  sweet  birds  sing; 

What  virtue  breeds  iniquity  devours : 

We  have  no  good  that  we  can  say  is  ours 
But  ill-annexed  Opportunity 
Or  kills  his  life  or  else  his  quality. 

864.  "abuse";  misuse.— C.  H.  H. 
146 


POEMS  The  Rape  of  Lucrece 

Opportunity,  thy  guilt  is  great! 
'Tis  thou  that  executest  the  traitor's  treason; 
Thou  set'st  the  wolf  where  he  the  lamb  may  get; 
Whoever  plots  the  sin,  thou  point'st  the  season;  879 
'Tis  thou  that  spurn'st  at  right,  at  law,  at  reason; 
And  in  thy  shady  cell,  where  none  may  spy 

him, 
Sits  Sin,  to  seize  the  souls  that  wander  by  him. 

"Thou  makest  the  vestal  violate  her  oath; 

Thou  blow'st  the  fire  when  temperance  is  thaw'd; 

Thou  smother'st  honesty,  thou  murder'st  troth; 

Thou  foul  abettor!  thou  notorious  bawd! 

Thou  plantest  scandal  and  displacest  laud: 

Thou  ravisher,  thou  traitor,  thou  false  thief, 
Thy  honey  turns  to  gall,  thy  joy  to  grief! 

'Thy  secret  pleasure  turns  to  open  shame,  890 

Thy  private  feasting  to  a  public  fast, 

Thy  smoothing  titles  to  a  ragged  name, 

Thy  sugar'd  tongue  to  bitter  wormwood  taste : 

Thy  violent  vanities  can  never  last. 

How  comes  it  then,  vile  Opportunity, 
Being  so  bad,  such  numbers  seek  for  thee? 

'When  wilt  thou  be  the  humble  suppliant's  friend, 
And  bring  him  where  his  suit  may  be  obtained? 
When  wilt  thou  sort  an  hour  great  strifes  to  end? 
Or  free  that  soul  which  wretchedness  hath  chained? 
Give  physic  to  the  sick,  ease  to  the  pained?         901 
The  poor,  lame,  blind,  halt,  creep,  cry  out  for 

thee; 

But  they  ne'er  meet  with  Opportunity. 
14  J  147 


The  Rape  of  Lucrece  POEMS 

'The  patient  dies  while  the  physician  sleeps; 
The  orphan  pines  while  the  oppressor  feeds ; 
Justice  is  feasting  while  the  widow  weeps ; 
Advice  is  sporting  while  infection  breeds : 
Thou  grant'st  no  time  for  charitable  deeds: 

Wrath,    envy,    treason,    rape,    and    murder's 
rages,  909 

Thy  heinous  hours  wait  on  them  as  their  pages. 

'When  Truth  and  Virtue  have  to  do  with  thee, 
A  thousand  crosses  keep  them  from  thy  aid: 
They  buy  thy  help,  but  Sin  ne'er  gives  a  fee; 
He  gratis  comes,  and  thou  art  well  appaid 
As  well  to  hear  as  grant  what  he  hath  said. 
My  Collatine  would  else  have  come  to  me 
When  Tarquin  did,  but  he  was  stay'd  by  thee. 

'Guilty  thou  art  of  murder  and  of  theft, 

Guilty  of  perjury  and  subornation, 

Guilty  of  treason,  forgery  and  shift,  920 

Guilty  of  incest,  that  abomination; 

An  accessary  by  thine  inclination 

To  all  sins  past  and  all  that  are  to  come, 
From  the  creation  to  the  general  doom. 

'Mis-shapen  Time,  copesmate  of  ugly  Night, 
Swift  subtle  post,  carrier  of  grisly  care, 
Eater  of  youth,  false  slave  to  false  delight, 
Base  watch  of  woes,  sin's  pack-horse,  virtue's  snare ; 

907.  "Advice";  medical  counsel.— C.  H.  H. 
912.  "crosses";  mischances.— C.  H.  H. 

1*9 


POEMS  The  Rape  of  Lucrece 

Thou  nursest  all  and  murder'st  all  that  are : 

O,  hear  me  then,  injurious,  shifting  Time!  930 
Be  guilty  of  my  death,  since  of  my  crime. 

'Why  hath  thy  servant  Opportunity 
OBetray'd  the  hours  thou  gavest  me  to  repose, 
Cancell'd  my  fortunes  and  enchained  me 
To  endless  date  of  never-ending  woes? 
Time's  office  is  to  fine  the  hate  of  foes, 
To  eat  up  errors  by  opinion  bred, 
Not  spend  the  dowry  of  a  lawful  bed. 

'Time's  glory  is  to  calm  contending  kings, 

To  unmask  falsehood  and  bring  truth  to  light,    940 

To  stamp  the  seal  of  time  in  aged  things, 

To  wake  the  morn  and  sentinel  the  night, 

To  wrong  the  wronger  till  he  render  right, 

To  ruinate  proud  buildings  with  thy  hours 
And  smear  with  dust  their  glittering  golden 
towers ; 

'To  fill  with  worm-holes  stately  monuments, 
To  feed  oblivion  with  decay  of  things, 
To  blot  old  books  and  alter  their  contents, 
To  pluck  the  quills  from  ancient  ravens'  wings, 
To  dry  the  old  oak's  sap  and  cherish  springs,      950 
To  spoil  antiquities  of  hammer'd  steel 
And  turn  the  giddy  round  of  Fortune's  wheel; 

'To  show  the  beldam  daughters  of  her  daughter, 
To  make  the  child  a  man,  the  man  a  child, 

930.  Perhaps  we  should  read,  "injurious-shifting  Time." — I.  G. 

149 


The  Rape  of  Lucrece  POEMS 

To  slay  the  tiger  that  doth  live  by  slaughter, 

To  tame  the  unicorn  and  lion  wild, 

To  mock  the  subtle  in  themselves  beguiled, 

To  cheer  the  plowman  with  increaseful  crops, 
And  waste  huge  stones  with  little  water-drops, 

*Why  work'st  thou  mischief  in  thy  pilgrimage,  960 
Unless  thou  couldst  return  to  make  amends? 
One  poor  retiring  minute  in  an  age 
Would  purchase  thee  a  thousand  thousand  friends, 
Lending  him  wit  that  to  bad  debtors  lends: 

O,  this  dread  night,  wouldst  thou  one  hour 
come  back, 

I  could  prevent  this  storm  and  shun  thy  wrack! 

*Thou  ceaseless  lackey  to  eternity, 

With  some  mischance  cross  Tarquin  in  his  flight: 

Devise  extremes  beyond  extremity, 

To  make  him  curse  this  cursed  crimeful  night:  970 

Let  ghastly  shadows  his  lewd  eyes  affright, 
And  the  dire  thought  of  his  committed  evil 
Shape  every  bush  a  hideous  shapeless  devil. 

'Disturb  his  hours  of  rest  with  restless  trances, 
Afflict  him  in  his  bed  with  bedrid  groans ; 
Let  there  bechance  him  pitiful  mischances, 
To  make  him  moan ;  but  pity  not  his  moans : 
Stone  him  with  harden'd  hearts,  harder  than  stones ; 
And  let  mild  women  to  him  lose  their  mildness, 
Wilder  to  him  than  tigers  in  their  wildness.  980 

150 


POEMS  The  Rape  of  Lucrece 

'Let  him  have  time  to  tear  his  curled  hair, 
Let  him  have  time  against  himself  to  rave, 
Let  him  have  time  of  time's  help  to  despair, 
Let  him  have  time  to  live  a  loathed  slave, 
Let  him  have  time  a  beggar's  orts  to  crave, 

And  time  to  see  one  that  by  alms  doth  live 
Disdain  to  him  disdained  scraps  to  give. 

'Let  him  have  time  to  see  his  friends  his  foes, 
And  merry  fools  to  mock  at  him  resort; 
Let  him  have  time  to  mark  how  slow  time  goes    990 
In  time  of  sorrow,  and  how  swift  and  short 
His  time  of  folly  and  his  time  of  sport ; 
And  ever  let  his  unrecalling  crime 
Have  time  to  wail  the  abusing  of  his  time. 

'O  Time,  thou  tutor  both  to  good  and  bad, 

Teach  me  to  curse  him  that  thou  taught'st  this  ill  I 

At  his  own  shadow  let  the  thief  run  mad, 

Himself  himself  seek  every  hour  to  kill! 

Such  wretched  hands  such  wretched  blood  should 

spill; 

For  who  so  base  would  such  an  office  have  1000 
As  slanderous  deathsman  to  so  base  a  slave? 

'The  baser  is  he,  coming  from  a  king, 
To  shame  his  hope  with  deeds  degenerate: 
The  mightier  man,  the  mightier  is  the  thing 
That  makes  him  honor'd  or  begets  him  hate ; 
For  greatest  scandal  waits  on  greatest  state. 

The  moon  being  clouded  presently  is  miss'd, 
But  little  stars  may  hide  them  when  they  list 

151 


The  Rape  of  Lucrece  POEMS 

'The  crow  may  bathe  his  coal-black  wings  in  mire, 
And  unperceived  fly  with  the  filth  away ;  1010 

But  if  the  like  the  snow-white  swan  desire, 
The  stain  upon  his  silver  down  will  stay. 
Poor  grooms  are  sightless  night,  kings  glorious 

day: 

Gnats  are  unnoted  wheresoever  they  fly, 
But  eagles  gazed  upon  with  every  eye. 

*Out,  idle  words,  servants  to  shallow  fools ! 

Unprofitable  sounds,  weak  arbitrators! 

Busy  yourselves  in  skill-contending  schools ; 

Debate  where  leisure  serves  with  dull  debaters; 

To  trembling  clients  be  you  mediators:  1020 

For  me,  I  force  not  argument  a  straw, 
Since  that  my  case  is  past  the  help  of  law. 

*In  vain  I  rail  at  Opportunity, 
At  Time,  at  Tarquin,  and  uncheerful  Night; 
In  vain  I  cavil  with  mine  infamy, 
In  vain  I  spurn  at  my  confirm'd  despite: 
This  helpless  smoke  of  words  doth  me  no  right. 
The  remedy  indeed  to  do  me  good 
Is  to  let  forth  my  foul-defiled  blood. 

'Poor  hand,  why  quiver'st  thou  at  this  decree?  1030 
Honor  thyself  to  rid  me  of  this  shame; 
For  if  I  die,  my  honor  lives  in  thee, 
But  if  I  live,  thou  livest  in  my  defame: 
Since  thou  couldst  not  defend  thy  loyal  dame 
And  wast  af eared  to  scratch  her  wicked  foe, 
Kill  both  thyself  and  her  for  yielding  so/ 

1021.  "force";  value.— C.  H.  H. 
152 


POEMS  The  Rape  of  Lucrece 

This  said,  from  her  be-tumbled  couch  she  starteth, 
To  find  some  desperate  instrument  of  death : 
But  this  no  slaughterhouse  no  tool  imparteth 
To  make  more  vent  for  passage  of  her  breath;  1040 
Which,  thronging  through  her  lips,  so  vanisheth 
As  smoke  from  ^Etna  that  in  air  consumes, 
Or  that  which  from  discharged  cannon  fumes. 

'In  vain/  quoth  she,  'I  live,  and  seek  in  vain 
Some  happy  mean  to  end  a  hapless  life. 
I  feared  by  Tarquin's  falchion  to  be  slain, 
Yet  for  the  self -same  purpose  seek  a  knife: 
But  when  I  fear'd  I  was  a  loyal  wife: 

So  am  I  now:  O  no,  that  cannot  be; 

Of  that  true  type  hath  Tarquin  rifled  me.  1050 

*O,  that  is  gone  for  which  I  sought  to  live, 

And  therefore  now  I  need  not  fear  to  die. 

To  clear  this  spot  by  death,  at  least  I  give 

A  badge  of  fame  to  slander's  livery, 

A  dying  life  to  living  infamy : 

Poor  helpless  help,  the  treasure  stol'n  away, 
To  burn  the  guiltless  casket  where  it  lay ! 

'Well,  well,  dear  Collatine,  thou  shalt  not  know 

The  stained  taste  of  violated  troth ; 

I  will  not  wrong  thy  true  affection  so,  1060 

To  flatter  thee  with  an  infringed  oath; 

This  bastard  graif  shall  never  come  to  growth: 
He  shall  not  boast  who  did  thy  stock  pollu 
That  thou  art  doting  father  of  his  fruit 

1054.  "badge";  mark.— C.  H.  H. 
153 


The  Rape  of  Lucrece  POEMS 

'Nor  shall  he  smile  at  thee  in  secret  thought, 
Nor  laugh  with  his  companions  at  thy  state ; 
But  thou  shalt  know  thy  interest  was  not  bought 
Basely  with  gold,  but  stol'u  from  forth  thy  gate. 
For  me,  I  am  the  mistress  of  my  fate, 

And  with  my  trespass  never  will  dispense,  1070 
Till  life  to  death  acquit  my  forced  offense. 

'I  will  not  poison  thee  with  my  attaint, 
Nor  fold  my  fault  in  cleanly-coin'd  excuses ; 
My  sable  ground  of  sin  I  will  not  paint, 
To  hide  the  truth  of  this  false  night's  abuses: 
My  tongue  shall  utter  all ;  mine  eyes,  like  sluices, 
As  from  a  mountain-spring  that  feeds  a  dale, 
Shall  gush  pure  streams  to  purge  my  impure 
tale/ 

By  this,  lamenting  Philomel  had  ended 
The  well  tuned  warble  of  her  nightly  sorrow,    1080 
And  solemn  night  with  slow  sad  gait  descended 
To  ugly  hell ;  when,  low,  the  blushing  morrow 
Lends  light  to  all  fair  eyes  that  light  will  borrow: 
But  cloudy  Lucrece  shames  herself  to  see, 
And  therefore  still  in  night  would  cloister'd  be. 

Revealing  day  through  every  cranny  spies, 
And  seems  to  point  her  out  where  she  sits  weeping; 
To  whom  she  sobbing  speaks :  'O  eye  of  eyes, 
Why  pry'st  thou  through  my  window?  leave  thy 
peeping : 

1084.  "cloudy*;  sorrowful.— C.  H.  H. 


POEMS  The  Rape  of  Lucrece 

Mock  with  thy  tickling  beams  eyes  that  are  sleep- 
ing: 1090 

Brand  not  my  forehead  with  thy  piercing 
light, 

For  day  hath  nought  to  do  what's  done  by 
night/ 


Thus  cavils  she  with  every  thing  she  sees: 
True  grief  is  fond  and  testy  as  a  child, 
Who  wayward  once,  his  mood  with  nought  agrees : 
Old  woes,  not  infant  sorrows,  bear  them  mild; 
Continuance  tames  the  one ;  the  other  wild, 

Like  an  unpracticed  swimmer  plunging  still 
With  too  much  labor  drowns  for  want  of  skilL 


So  she,  deep-drenched  in  a  sea  of  care, 
Holds  disputation  with  each  thing  she  views, 
And  to  herself  all  sorrow  doth  compare; 
No  object  but  her  passion's  strength  renews, 
And  as  one  shifts,  another  straight  ensues: 

Sometime  her  grief  is  dumb  and  hath  no  words; 

Sometime  'tis  mad  and  too  much  talk  affords. 


The  little  birds  that  tune  their  morning's  joy 
Make  her  moans  mad  with  their  sweet  melody: 
For  mirth  doth  search  the  bottom  of  annoy; 
Sad  souls  are  slain  in  merry  company; 
Grief  best  is  pleased  with  grief's  society: 
True  sorrow  then  is  feelingly  sufficed 
When  with  like  semblance  it  is  sympathized. 

155 


The  Rape  of  Lucrece  POEMS 

*Tis  double  death  to  drown  in  ken  of  shore; 
He  ten  times  pfnes  that  pines  beholding  food; 
To  see  the  salve  doth  make  the  wound  ache  more ; 
Great  grief  grieves  most  at  that  would  do  it  good; 
Deep  woes  roll  forward  like  a  gentle  flood, 

Who,  being  stopp'd,  the  bounding  banks  o'er- 
flows ; 

Grief  dallied  with  nor  law  nor  limit  knows.  1120 


"You  mocking  birds,'  quoth  she,  'your  tunes  entomb 
Within  your  hollow-swelling  f  eather'd  breasts, 
And  in  my  hearing  be  you  mute  and  dumb : 
My  restless  discord  loves  no  stops  nor  rests ; 
A  woeful  hostess  brooks  not  merry  guests : 

Relish  your  nimble  notes  to  pleasing  ears; 

Distress  likes  dumps  when  time  is  kept  with 
tears. 

"Come,  Philomel,  that  sing'st  of  ravishment, 

Make  thy  sad  grove  in  my  dishevel'd  hair : 

As  the  dank  earth  weeps  at  thy  languishment,  1130 

So  I  at  each  sad  strain  will  strain  a  tear, 

And  with  deep  groans  the  diapason  bear; 

For  burden-wise  I  '11  hum  on  Tarquin  still, 
While  thou  on  Tereus  descant'st  better  skill. 

1126.  "pleasing"  for  pleased.— H.   N.  H. 

1134.  "descant'st";  Qq.,  "descants."— I.  G. 

"Tereus  .  .  .  better  skill";  that  is,  with  better  skill.  Philo- 
mela, the  daughter  of  Pandion,  king  of  Athens,  being  ravished  by 
Tereus,  the  husband  of  her  sister  Progne,  was  turned  into  a  nightin- 
gale, her  sister  into  a  swallow,  and  Tereus  into  a  lapwing.— H.  N.  H. 

156 


POEMS  The  Rape  of  Lucrece 

'And  whiles  against  a  thorn  thou  bear'st  thy  part, 
To  keep  thy  sharp  woes  waking,  wretched  I, 
To  imitate  thee  well,  against  my  heart 
Will  fix  a  sharp  knife,  to  affright  mine  eye; 
Who,  if  it  wink,  shall  thereon  fall  and  die. 

These  means,  as  frets  upon  an  instrument,  1140 
Shall  tune  our  heart-strings  to  true  languish- 
ment. 

'And  for,  poor  bird,  thou  sing'st  not  in  the  day, 
As  shaming  any  eye  should  thee  behold, 
Some  dark  deep  desert,  seated  from  the  way, 
That  knows  not  parching  heat  nor  freezing  cold, 
Will  we  find  out ;  and  there  we  will  unfold 

To  creatures  stern  sad  tunes,  to  change  their 

kinds 

Since  men  prove  beasts,  let  beasts  bear  gentle 
minds.' 

As  the  poor  frighted  deer,  that  stands  at  gaze, 
Wildly  determining  which  way  to  fly,  1150 

Or  one  encompass'd  with  a  winding  maze, 
That  cannot  tread  the  way  out  readily ; 
So  with  herself  is  she  in  mutiny, 

To  live  or  die,  which  of  the  twain  were  better, 
When  life  is   shamed  and   death  reproach's 
debtor. 

'To  kill  myself,'  quoth  she,  'alack,  what  were  it, 
But  with  my  body  my  poor  soul's  pollution? 

1135.  "against  a  thorn";  alluding  to  the  nightingale's  singing  with 
her  breast  against  a  thorn. — H.  N.  H. 

157 


The  Rape  of  Lucrece  POEMS 

They  that  lose  half  with  greater  patience  bear  it 
Than  they  whose  whole  is  swallow'd  in  confusion. 
That  mother  tries  a  merciless  conclusion  1160 

Who,  having  two  sweet  babes,  when  death 

takes  one, 
Will  slay  the  other  and  be  nurse  to  none. 

'My  body  or  my  soul,  which  was  the  dearer, 
When  the  one  pure,  the  other  made  divine? 
Whose  love  of  either  to  myself  was  nearer, 
When  both  were  kept  for  heaven  and  Collatine? 
Aye  me!  the  bark  peel'd  from  the  lofty  pine, 

His  leaves  will  wither  and  his  sap  decay ; 

So  must  my  soul,  her  bark  being  peel'd  away. 

'Her  house  is  sack'd,  her  quiet  interrupted,         1170 

Her  mansion  batter'd  by  the  enemy ; 

Her  sacred  temple  spotted,  spoiFd,  corrupted, 

Grossly  engirt  with  daring  infamy: 

Then  let  it  not  be  call'd  impiety, 

If  in  this  blemish'd  fort  I  make  some  hole 
Through  which  I  may  convey  this  troubled 
soul. 


'Yet  die  I  will  not  till  my  Collatine 
Have  heard  the  cause  of  my  untimely  death; 
That  he  may  vow,  in  that  sad  hour  of  mine, 
Revenge  on  him  that  made  me  stop  my  breath.  1180 
My  stained  blood  to  Tarquin  I  '11  bequeath, 

Which  by  him  tainted  shall  for  him  be  spent, 
And  as  his  due  writ  in  my  testament. 

158 


POEMS  The  Rape  of  Lucrece 

'My  honor  I  '11  bequeath  unto  the  knife 

That  wounds  my  body  so  dishonored. 

'Tis  honor  to  deprive  dishonor'd  life; 

The  one  will  live,  the  other  being  dead: 

So  of  shame's  ashes  shall  my  fame  be  bred; 

For  in  my  death  I  murder  shameful  scorn:  1189 
My  shame  so  dead,  mine  honor  is  new-born. 

'Dear  lord  of  that  dear  jewel  I  have  lost, 
What  legacy  shall  I  bequeath  to  thee? 
My  resolution,  love,  shall  be  thy  boast, 
By  whose  example  thou  revenged  mayst  be, 
How  Tarquin  must  be  used,  read  it  in  me: 

Myself,  thy  friend,  will  kill  myself,  thy  foe, 
And,  for  my  sake,  serve  thou  false  Tarquin  so. 

'This  brief  abridgment  of  my  will  I  make: 
My  soul  and  body  to  the  skies  and  ground; 
My  resolution,  husband,  do  thou  take;  1200 

Mine  honor  be  the  knife's  that  makes  my  wound ; 
My  shame  be  his  that  did  my  fame  confound; 
And  all  my  fame  that  lives  disbursed  be 
To  those  that  live  and  think  no  shame  of  me 

'Thou,  Collatine,  shalt  oversee  this  will; 

How  was  I  overseen  that  thou  shalt  see  it! 

My  blood  shall  wash  the  slander  of  mine  ill; 

My  life's  foul  deed,  my  life's  fair  end  shall  free  it. 

Faint  not,  faint  heart,  but  stoutly  say  "So  be  it:" 

Yield  to  my  hand;  my  hand  shall  conquer 
thee:  1210 

Thou  dead,  both  die  and  both  shall  victors  be,,' 

159 


The  Rape  of  Lucrece  POEMS 

This  plot  of  death  when  sadly  she  had  laid, 
And  wiped  the  brinish  pearl  from  her  bright  eyes, 
With  untuned  tongue  she  hoarsely  calls  her  maid, 
Whose  swift  obedience  to  her  mistress  hies ; 
For  fleet-wing'd  duty  with  thought's  feathers  flies. 
Poor  Lucrece'  cheeks  unto  her  maid  seem  so 
As  winter  meads  when  sun  doth  melt  their 
snow. 


Her  mistress  she  doth  give  demure  good-morrow, 
With  soft  slow  tongue,  true  mark  of  modesty,  1220 
And  sorts  a  sad  look  to  her  lady's  sorrow, 
For  why  her  face  wore  sorrow's  livery, 
But  durst  not  ask  of  her  audaciously 

Why  her  two  suns  were  cloud-eclipsed  so, 
Nor  why  her  fair  cheeks  over-wash'd  with  woe. 

But  as  the  earth  doth  weep,  the  sun  being  set, 
Each  flower  moisten'd  like  a  melting  eye, 
Even  so  the  maid  with  swelling  drops  'gan  wet 
Her  circled  eyne,  enforced  by  sympathy 
Of  those  fair  suns  set  in  her  mistress'  sky,         1230 
Who  in  a  salt-waved  ocean  quench  their  light, 
Which  makes  the  maid  weep  like  the  dewy 
night. 

A  pretty  while  these  pretty  creatures  stand, 
Like  ivory  conduits  coral  cisterns  filling : 
One  justly  weeps;  the  other  takes  in  hand 
No  cause,  but  company,  of  her  drops  spilling: 

ifio 


POEMS  The  Rape  of  Lucrece 

Their  gentle  sex  to  weep  are  often  willing, 

Grieving  themselves  to  guess  at  others'  smarts, 
And  then  they  drown  their  eyes  or  break  their 
hearts. 


For  men  have  marble,  women  waxen,  minds,      1240 
And  therefore  are  they  form'd  as  marble  will; 
The  weak  oppress'd,   the  impression  of  strange 

kinds 

Is  form'd  in  them  by  force,  by  fraud,  or  skill: 
Then  call  them  not  the  authors  of  their  ill, 
No  more  than  wax  shall  be  accounted  evil 
Wherein  is  stamp'd  the  semblance  of  a  devil* 

Their  smoothness,  like  a  goodly  champaign  plain, 
Lays  open  all  the  little  worms  that  creep ; 
In  men,  as  in  a  rough-grown  grove,  remain 
Cave-keeping  evils  that  obscurely  sleep:  1250 

Through  crystal  walls  each  little  mote  will  peep : 

Though  men  can  cover  crimes  with  bold  stern 
looks, 

Poor  women's  faces  are  their  own  faults'  books. 

No  man  inveigh  against  the  withered  flower, 

But  chide  rough  winter  that  the  flower  hath  kilTd: 

Not  that  devour'd,  but  that  which  doth  devour, 

Is  worthy  blame.     O,  let  it  not  be  hild 

Poor  women's  faults,  that  they  are  so  fulfill'd 

With  men's  abuses :  those  proud  lords  to  blame 
Make    weak-made    women    tenants    to    their 
shame. 

XXXIX— 11  II 


The  Rape  of  Lucrece  POEMS 

The  precedent  whereof  in  Lucrece  view,  1261 

Assail'd  by  night  with  circumstances  strong 
Of  present  death,  and  shame  that  might  ensue 
By  that  her  death,  to  do  her  husband  wrong: 
Such  danger  to  resistance  did  belong, 

That  dying  fear  through  all  her  body  spread; 

And  who  cannot  abuse  a  body  dead? 

By  this,  mild  patience  bid  fair  Lucrece  speak 
To  the  poor  counterfeit  of  her  complaining: 
'My  girl/  quoth  she,  'on  what  occasion  break     1270 
Those  tears  from  thee,  that  down  thy  cheeks  are 

raining? 
If  thou  dost  weep  for  grief  of  my  sustaining, 

Know,  gentle  wench,  it  small  avails  my  mood: 
If  tears  could  help,  mine  own  would  do  me 
good. 

'But  tell  me,  girl,  when  went' — and  there  she  stay'd 
Till  after  a  deep  groan — 'Tarquin  from  hence?' 
'Madam,  ere  I  was  up,'  replied  the  maid, 
'The  more  to  blame  my  sluggard  negligence: 
Yet  with  the  fault  I  thus  far  can  dispense; 

Myself  was  stirring  ere  the  break  of  day,  1280 
And  ere  I  rose  was  Tarquin  gone  away. 

'But,  lady,  if  your  maid  may  be  so  bold, 
She  would  request  to  know  your  heaviness.' 
*O,  peace!'  quoth  Lucrece:  'if  it  should  be  told, 
The  repetition  cannot  make  it  less, 
For  more  it  is  than  I  can  well  express: 

And  that  deep  torture  may  be  call'd  a  hell 
[When  more  is  felt  than  one  hath  power  to  tell. 
162 


POEMS  The  Rape  of  Lucrece 

'Go,  get  me  hither  paper,  ink  and  pen: 

Yet  save  that  labor,  for  I  have  them  here.          1290 

What  should  I  say?     One  of  my  husband's  men 

Bid  thou  be  ready  by  and  by  to  bear 

A  letter  to  my  lord,  my  love,  my  dear : 

Bid  him  with  speed  prepare  to  carry  it; 

The  cause  craves  haste  and  it  will  soon  be  writ/ 

Her  maid  is  gone,  and  she  prepares  to  write, 
First  hovering  o'er  the  paper  with  her  quill : 
Conceit  and  grief  an  eager  combat  fight ; 
What  wit  sets  down  is  blotted  straight  with  will; 
This  is  too  curious-good,  this  blunt  and  ill :         1300 
Much  like  a  press  of  people  at  the  door, 
Throng  her  inventions,  which  shall  go  before. 

At  last  she  thus  begins:     'Thou  worthy  lord 
Of  that  unworthy  wife  that  greeteth  thee, 
Health  to  thy  person !  next  vouchsafe  t'  afford — 
If  ever,  love,  thy  Lucrece  thou  wilt  see- 
Some  present  speed  to  come  and  visit  me. 

So,  I  commend  me  from  our  house  in  grief: 
My  woes  are  tedious,  though  my  words  are 
brief.' 

Here  folds  she  up  the  tenor  of  her  woe,  1310 

Her  certain  sorrow  writ  uncertainly. 
By  this  short  schedule  Collatine  may  know 
Her  grief,  but  not  her  grief's  true  quality: 
She  dares  not  thereof  make  discovery, 

Lest  he  should  hold  it  her  own  gross  abuse, 
Ere  she  with  blood  had  stain'd  her  stain'd  ex- 
cuse. 

163 


The  Rape  of  Lucrece  POEMS 

Besides,  the  life  and  feeling  of  her  passion 

She  hoards,  to  spend  when  he  is  by  to  hear  her, 

When  sighs  and  groans  and  tears  may  grace  the 

fashion 

Of  her  disgrace,  the  better  so  to  clear  her          1320 
From  that  suspicion  which  the  world  might  bear 

her. 

To  shun  this  blot,  she  would  not  blot  the  letter 
With  words,  till  action  might  become  them  bet- 
ter. 

To  see  sad  sights  moves  more  than  hear  them  told; 
For  then  the  eye  interprets  to  the  ear 
The  heavy  motion  that  it  doth  behold, 
When  every  part  a  part  of  woe  doth  bear. 
'Tis  but  a  part  of  sorrow  that  we  hear: 

Deep  sounds  make  lesser  noise  than  shallow 

fords, 

And  sorrow  ebbs,  being  blown  with  wind  of 
words.  1330 

Her  letter  now  is  seal'd  and  on  it  writ 
'At  Ardea  to  my  lord  with  more  than  haste/ 
The  post  attends,  and  she  delivers  it, 
Charging  the  sour- faced  groom  to  hie  as  fast 
As  lagging  fowls  before  the  northern  blast : 

Speed  more  than  speed  but  dull  and  slow  she 
deems : 

Extremity  still  urgeth  such  extremes. 

The  homely  villain  court'sies  to  her  low, 
And  blushing  on  her,  with  a  steadfast  eye 

1338.  "courfsiea"j  Qq.,  "cursies."— I,  G, 
164 


POEMS  The  Rape  of  Lucrec* 

Receives  the  scroll  without  or  yea  or  no,  1340 

And  forth  with  bashful  innocence  doth  hie. 
But  they  whose  guilt  within  their  bosoms  lie 

Imagine  every  eye  beholds  their  blame; 

For  LucrejKe  thought  he  blush'd  to  see  her 
shame : 

When,  silly  groom !  God  wot,  it  was  defect 

Of  spirit,  life  and  bold  audacity. 

Such  harmless  creatures  have  a  true  respect 

To  talk  in  deeds,  while  others  saucily 

Promise  more  speed  but  do  it  leisurely: 

Even  so  this  pattern  of  the  worn-out  age  13SO 
Pawn'd  honest  looks,  but  laid  no  words  ta 
gage. 

His  kindled  duty  kindled  her  mistrust, 
That  two  red  fires  in  both  their  faces  blazed; 
She  thought  he  blush'd,  as  knowing  Tarquin's  lust, 
And  blushing  with  him,  wistly  on  him  gazed; 
Her  earnest  eye  did  make  him  more  amazed: 

The  more  she  saw  the  blood  his  cheeks  replen- 
ish, 

The  more  she  thought  he  spied  in  her  some 
blemish. 

But  long  she  thinks  till  he  return  again, 

And  yet  the  duteous  vassal  scarce  is  gone,        1360 

The  weary  time  she  cannot  entertain, 

For  now  'tis  stale  to  sigh,  to  weep  and  groan: 

So  woe  hath  wearied  woe,  moan  tired  moan, 

That  she  her  plaints  a  little  while  doth  stay, 
Pausing  for  means  to  mourn  some  newer  way. 

165 


The  Rape  of  Lucrece  POEMS 

At  last  she  calls  to  mind  where  hangs  a  piece 

Of  skilful  painting,  made  for  Priam's  Troy; 

Before  the  which  is  drawn  thit  power  of  Greece, 

For  Helen's  rape  the  city  to  destroy, 

Threatening  cloud-kissing  Ilion  with  annoy;     1370 
Which  the  conceited  painter  drew  so  proud, 
As  heaven,  it  seem'd,  to  kiss  the  turrets  bow'cL 

A  thousand  lamentable  objects  there, 
In  scorn  of  nature,  art  gave  lifeless  life : 
Many  a  dry  drop  seem'd  a  weeping  tear, 
Shed  for  the  slaughter'd  husband  by  the  wife : 
The  red  blood  reeked  to  show  the  painter's  strife ; 
And  dying  eyes  gleam'd  forth  their  ashy  lights, 
Like  dying  coals  burnt  out  in  tedious  nights. 

There  might  you  see  the  laboring  pioneer          1380 
Begrimed  with  sweat  and  smeared  all  with  dust; 
And  from  the  towers  of  Troy  there  would  appear 
The  very  eyes  of  men  through  loop-holes  thrust, 
Gazing  upon  the  Greeks  with  little  lust: 

Such  sweet  observance  in  this  work  was  had 
That  one  might  see  those  far-off  eyes  look  sad. 

In  great  commanders  grace  and  majesty 
You  might  behold,  triumphing  in  their  faces. 
In  youth,  quick  bearing  and  dexterity; 
And  here  and  there  the  painter  interlaces          1390 
Pale  cowards,  marching  on  with  trembling  paces ; 
Which  heartless  peasants  did  so  well  resemble 
That  one  would  swear  he  saw  them  quake  and 
tremble. 

1380.  "pioneer";  sapper.— C.  H.  H. 
166 


POEMS  The  Rape  of  Lucrece 

In  Ajax  and  Ulysses,  O,  what  art 

Of  physiognomy  might  one  behold! 

The  face  of  either  ciphered  cither's  heart; 

Their  face  their  manners  most  expressly  told : 

In  Ajax'  eyes  blunt  rage  and  rigor  roll'd; 
But  the  mild  glance  that  sly  Ulysses  lent 
Show'd    deep    regard    and    smiling    govern- 
ment. 1400 

There  pleading  might  you  see  grave  Nestor  stand, 
As  'twere  encouraging  the  Greeks  to  fight, 
Making  such  sober  action  with  his  hand 
That  it  beguiled  attention,  charm'd  the  sight : 
In  speech,  it  seem'd,  his  beard  all  silver  white 

Wagg'd  up  and  down,  and  from  his  lips  did  fly 
Thin  winding  breath  which  purl'd  up  to  the 
sky. 

About  him  were  a  press  of  gaping  faces, 
Which  seem'd  to  swallow  up  his  sound  advice ; 
All  jointly  listening,  but  with  several  graces,     1410 
As  if  some  mermaid  did  their  ears  entice, 
Some  high,  some  low,  the  painter  was  so  nice ; 
The  scalps  of  many,  almost  hid  behind, 
To  jump  up  higher  seem'd,  to  mock  the  mind, 

Here  one  man's  hand  lean'd  on  another's  head, 
His  nose  being  shadow'd  by  his  neighbor's  ear; 
Here  one  being  throng'd  bears  back,  all  boll'n  and 

red; 

Another  smother'd  seems  to  pelt  and  swear; 

167 


The  Rape  of  Lucrece  POEMS 

And  in  their  rage  such  signs  of  rage  they  bear 

As,  but  for  loss  of  Nestor's  golden  words,  1420 
It    seem'd    they    would    debate    with    angry 
swords. 

For  much  imaginary  work  was  there; 
Conceit  deceitful,  so  compact,  so  kind, 
That  for  Achilles'  image  stood  his  spear 
Griped  in  an  armed  hand ;  himself  behind 
Was  left  unseen,  save  to  the  eye  of  mind: 
A  hand,  a  foot,  a  face,  a  leg,  a  head, 
Stood  for  the  whole  to  be  imagined. 

And  from  the  walls  of  strong-besieged  Troy 
When  their  brave  hope,  bold  Hector,  march'd  to 
field,  1430 

Stood  many  Trojan  mothers  sharing  joy 
To  see  their  youthful  sons  bright  weapons  wield; 
And  to  their  hope  they  such  odd  action  yield 

That  through  their  light  joy  seemed  to  appear, 
Like  bright  things  stain'd,  a  kind  of  heavy 
fear. 

And   from   the  strand   of   Dardan,   where   they 

fought, 

To  Simois'  reedy  banks  the  red  blood  ran, 
Whose  waves  to  imitate  the  battle  sought 
With  swelling  ridges ;  and  their  ranks  began 
To  break  upon  the  galled  shore,  and  than  1440 

Retire  again,  till  meeting  greater  ranks 
They  join  and  shoot  their  foam  at  Simois' 
banks. 

168 


POEMS  The  Rape  of  Lucrece 

To  this  well-painted  piece  is  Lucrece  come, 
To  find  a  face  where  all  distress  is  stell'd. 
Many  she  sees  where  cares  have  carved  some, 
But  none  where  all  distress  and  dolor  dwelFd, 
Till  she  despairing  Hecuba  beheld, 

Staring  on  Priam's  wounds  with  her  old  eyes, 
Which  bleeding  under  Pyrrhus'  proud  foot 
lies. 

In  her  the  painter  had  anatomized  1450 

Time's  ruin,  beauty's  wreck,  and  grim  care's  reign : 
Her  cheeks  with  chaps  and  wrinkles  were  disguised ; 
Of  what  she  was  no  semblance  did  remain: 
Her  blue  blood  changed  to  black  in  every  vein, 

Wanting  the  spring  that  those  shrunk  pipes 
had  fed, 

Show'd  life  imprison'd  in  a  body  dead. 

On  this  sad  shadow  Lucrece  spends  her  eyes, 
And  shapes  her  sorrow  to  the  beldam's  woes, 
Who  nothing  wants  to  answer  her  but  cries, 
And  bitter  words  to  ban  her  cruel  foes :  1460 

The  painter  was  no  god  to  lend  her  those ; 

And   therefore    Lucrece    swears   he   did   her 
wrong, 

To  give  her  so  much  grief  and  not  a  tongue. 

'Poor  instrument/  quoth  she,  'without  a  sound, 
I  '11  tune  thy  woes  with  my  lamenting  tongue, 
And  drop  sweet  balm  in  Priam's  painted  wound, 
And  rail  on  Pyrrhus  that  hath  done  him  wrong, 

169 


The  Rape  of  Lucrece  POEMS 

And  with  my  tears  quench  Troy  that  burns  so  long, 
And  with  my  knife  scratch  out  the  angry  eyes 
Of  all  the  Greeks  that  are  thine  enemies.  1470 

'Show  me  the  strumpet  that  began  this  stir, 
That  with  my  nails  her  beauty  I  may  tear. 
Thy  heat  of  lust,  fond  Paris,  did  incur 
This  load  of  wrath  that  burning  Troy  doth  bear : 
Thy  eye  kindled  the  fire  that  burneth  here; 

And  here  in  Troy,  for  trespass  of  thine  eye, 
The  sire,  the  son,  the  dame  and  daughter  die. 

'Why  should  the  private  pleasure  of  some  one 
Become  the  public  plague  of  many  moe? 
Let  sin,  alone  committed,  light  alone  1480 

Upon  his  head  that  hath  transgressed  so; 
Let  guiltless  souls  be  freed  from  guilty  woe : 
For  one's  offense  why  should  so  many  fall, 
To  plague  a  private  sin  in  general? 

'Lo,  here  weeps  Hecuba,  here  Priam  dies, 
Here  manly  Hector  faints,  here  Troilus  swounds, 
Here  friend  by  friend  in  bloody  channel  lies, 
And  friend  to  friend  gives  unadvised  wounds, 
And  one  man's  lust  these  many  lives  confounds : 
Had  doting  Priam  check'd  his  son's  desire,  1490 
Troy  had  been  bright  with  fame  and  not  with 
fire.' 

Here  feelingly  she  weeps  Troy's  painted  woes : 
For  sorrow,  like  a  heavy-hanging  bell 

1487.  "channel3';  kennel,  gutter.— C.  H.  H. 
170 


POEMS  The  Rape  of  Lucrece 

Once  set  on  ringing,  with  his  own  weight  goes; 
Then  little  strength  rings  out  the  doleful  knell: 
So  Lucrece,  set  a-work,  sad  tales  doth  tell 

To  pencill'd  pensiveness  and  color'd  sorrow ; 

She  lends  them  words,  and  she  their  looks  doth 
borrow. 


She  throws  her  eyes  about  the  painting  round, 
And  who  she  finds  forlorn  she  doth  lament.       1500 
At  last  she  sees  a  wretched  image  bound, 
That  piteous  looks  to  Phrygian  shepherds  lent: 
His  face,  though  full  of  cares,  yet  show'd  content; 
Onward  to  Troy  with  the  blunt  swains  he  goes, 
So  mild  that  Patience  seem'd  to  scorn  his  woes. 


In  him  the  painter  labor'd  with  his  skill 
To  hide  deceit  and  give  the  harmless  show 
An  humble  gait,  calm  looks,  eyes  wailing  still, 
A  brow  unbent,  that  seem'd  to  welcome  woe; 
Cheeks  neither  red  nor  pale,  but  mingled  so      1510 
That  blushing  red  no  guilty  instance  gave, 
Nor  ashy  pale  the  fear  that  false  hearts  have. 

But,  like  a  constant  and  confirmed  devil, 
He  entertain'd  a  show  so  seeming  just, 
And  therein  so  ensconced  his  secret  evil, 
That  jealousy  itself  could  not  mistrust 
False-creeping  craft  and  perjury  should  thrust 
Into  so  bright  a  day  such  black-faced  storms, 
Or  blot  with  hell-born  sin  such  saint-like  forms. 
171 


The  Rape  of  Lucrece  POEMS 

The  well-skill'd  workman  this  mild  image  drew  1520 
For  perjured  Sinon,  whose  enchanting  story 
The  credulous  old  Priam  after  slew; 
Whose  words,  like  wildfire,  burnt  the  shining  glory 
Of  rich-built  Ilion,  that  the  skies  were  sorry, 
And  little  stars  shot  from  their  fixed  places, 
When  their  glass  fell  wherein  they  view'd  their 
faces. 

This  picture  she  advisedly  perused, 

And  chid  the  painter  for  his  wondrous  skill, 

Saying,  some  shape  in  Sinon's  was  abused; 

So  fair  a  form  lodged  not  a  mind  so  ill :  1530 

And  still  on  him  she  gazed,  and  gazing  still 

Such  signs  of  truth  in  his  plain  face  she  spied 
That  she  concludes  the  picture  was  belied. 

'It  cannot  be/  quoth  she,  'that  so  much  guile' — 
She  would  have  said  'can  lurk  in  such  a  look ;' 
But  Tarquin's  shape  came  in  her  mind  the  while, 
And  from  her  tongue  'can  lurk'  from  'cannot'  took : 
'It  cannot  be'  she  in  that  sense  forsook, 

And  turn'd  it  thus,  'It  cannot  be,  I  find,     1539 
But  such  a  face  should  bear  a  wicked  mind : 

'For  even  as  subtle  Sinon  here  is  painted, 
So  sober-sad,  so  weary  and  so  mild, 
As  if  with  grief  or  travail  he  had  fainted, 
To  me  came  Tarquin  armed:  so  beguiled 
With  outward  honesty,  but  yet  defiled 

With  inward  vice :  as  Priam  him  did  cherish, 
So  did  I  Tarquin;  so  my  Troy  did  perish. 
172 


POEMS  The  Rape  of  Lucrece 

'Look,  look,  how  listening  Priam  wets  his  eyes, 
To  see  those  borrow'd  tears  that  Sinon  sheds ! 
Priam,  why  art  thou  old  and  yet  not  wise?        1550 
For  every  tear  he  falls  a  Trojan  bleeds: 
His  eye  drops  fire,  no  water  thence  proceeds ; 

Those  round  clear  pearls  of  his  that  move  thy 
pity 

Are  balls  of  quenchless  fire  to  burn  thy  city. 

'Such  devils  steal  effects  from  lightless  hell; 
For  Sinon  in  his  fire  doth  quake  with  cold, 
And  in  that  cold  hot-burning  fire  doth  dwell; 
These  contraries  such  unity  do  hold, 
Only  to  flatter  fools  and  make  them  bold : 

So  Priam's  trust  false  Sinon's  tears  doth  flat- 
ter, 1560 
That  he  finds  means  to  burn  his  Troy  with  wa- 
ter/ 

Here,  all  enraged,  such  passion  her  assails, 
That  patience  is  quite  beaten  from  her  breast. 
She  tears  the  senseless  Sinon  with  her  nails, 
Comparing  him  to  that  unhappy  guest 
Whose  deed  hath  made  herself  herself  detest: 

At  last  she  smilingly  with  this  gives  o'er; 

'Fool,  fool!'  quoth  she,  'his  wounds  will  not  be 
sore.' 

Thus  ebbs  and  flows  the  current  of  her  sorrow,  1569 
And  time  doth  weary  time  with  her  complaining. 
She  looks  for  night,  and  then  she  longs  for  morrow, 
And  both  she  thinks  too  long  with  her  remaining: 

173 


The  Rape  of  Lucrece  POEMS 

Short  time  seems  long  in  sorrow's  sharp  sustaining: 
Though  woe  be  heavy,  yet  it  seldom  sleeps, 
And  they  that  watch  see  time  how  slow  it 
creeps. 

Which  all  this  time  hath  overslipp'd  her  thought, 

That  she  with  painted  images  hath  spent ; 

Being  from  the  feeling  of  her  own  grief  brought 

By  deep  surmise  of  others'  detriment, 

Losing  her  woes  in  shows  of  discontent.  1580 

It  easeth  some,  though  none  it  ever  cured, 
To  think  their  dolor  others  have  endured. 

But  now  the  mindful  messenger  come  back 
Brings  home  his  lord  and  other  company; 
Who  finds  his  Lucrece  clad  in  mourning  black: 
And  round  about  her  tear-distained  eye 
Blue  circles  stream'd,  like  rainbows  in  the  sky : 
These  water-galls  in  her  dim  element 
Foretell  new  storms  to  those  already  spent. 

Which  when  her  sad-beholding  husband  saw,     1590 

Amazedly  in  her  sad  face  he  stares : 

Her  eyes,  though  sod  in  tears,  look'd  red  and  raw, 

Her  lively  color  kill'd  with  deadly  cares. 

He  hath  no  power  to  ask  her  how  she  fares: 

Both  stood,  like  old  acquaintance  in  a  trance, 
Met  far  from  home,  wondering  each  other's 
chance. 

At  last  he  takes  her  by  the  bloodless  hand, 
And  thus  begins :  'What  uncouth  ill  event 

174 


POEMS  The  Rape  of  Luerece 

Hath  thee  befall'n,  that  thou  dost  trembling  stand? 

Sweet  love,  what  spite  hath  thy  fair  color  spent? 

Why  art  thou  thus  attired  in  discontent?  1601 

Unmask,  dear  dear,  this  moody  heaviness, 
And  tell  thy  grief,  that  we  may  give  redress.' 

Three  times  with  sighs  she  gives  her  sorrow  fire, 
Ere  once  she  can  discharge  one  word  of  woe : 
At  length  address'd  to  answer  his  desire, 
She  modestly  prepares  to  let  them  know 
Her  honor  is  ta'en  prisoner  by  the  foe ; 

While  Collatine  and  his  consorted  lords 
With  sad  attention  long  to  hear  her  words.  1610 

And  now  this  pale  swan  in  her  watery  nest 
Begins  the  sad  dirge  of  her  certain  ending : 
'Few  words,'  quoth  she,  'shall  fit  the  trespass  best, 
Where  no  excuse  can  give  the  fault  amending : 
In  me  moe  woes  than  words  are  now  depending ; 
And  my  laments  would  be  drawn  out  too  long, 
To  tell  them  all  with  one  poor  tired  tongue. 

'Then  be  this  all  the  task  it  hath  to  say: 

Dear  husband,  in  the  interest  of  thy  bed 

A  stranger  came,  and  on  that  pillow  lay  1620 

Where  thou  wast  wont  to  rest  thy  weary  head ; 

And  what  wrong  else  may  be  imagined 

By  foul  enforcement  might  be  done  to  me, 
From  that,  alas,  thy  Lucrece  is  not  free. 

1600.  "spent?';  put  out    (the  meaning  probably  influenced  by  the 
Italian,  "spento").— C.  H.  H. 

1615.  "depending";  impending.— C.  H.  H. 

1619.  "in  the  interest?';  into  the  usufruct  or  enjoyment.— C.  H.  H. 

175 


The  Rape  of  Lucrece  POEMS 

'For  in  the  dreadful  dead  of  dark  midnight, 
With  shining  falchion  in  my  chamber  came 
A  creeping  creature,  with  a  flaming  light, 
And  softly  cried  "Awake,  thou  Roman  dame, 
And  entertain  my  love;  else  lasting  shame 

On  thee  and  thine  this  night  I  will  inflict,  1630 
If  thou  my  love's  desire  do  contradict. 


'  "For  some  hard-f  avor'd  groom  of  thine,"  quoth 

he, 

"Unless  thou  yoke  thy  liking  to  my  will, 
I  '11  murder  straight,  and  then  I  '11  slaughter  thee, 
And  swear  I  found  you  where  you  did  fulfil 
The  loathsome  act  of  lust,  and  so  did  kill 

The  lechers  in  their  deed:  this  act  will  be 
My  fame,  and  thy  perpetual  infamy/' 

'With  this,  I  did  begin  to  start  and  cry; 

And  then  against  my  heart  he  set  his  sword,     1640 

Swearing,  unless  I  took  all  patiently, 

I  should  not  live  to  speak  another  word; 

So  should  my  shame  still  rest  upon  record, 
And  never  be  forgot  in  mighty  Rome 
The   adulterate   death   of   Lucrece   and   her 
groom. 

'Mine  enemy  was  strong,  my  poor  self  weak, 
And  far  the  weaker  with  so  strong  a  fear : 
My  bloody  judge  forbade  my  tongue  to  speak; 
No  rightful  plea  might  plead  for  justice  there: 

176 


POEMS  The  Rape  of  Lucrece 


His  scarlet  lust  came  evidence  to  swear 

That  my  poor  beauty  had  purloin'd  his  eyes  ; 
And  when  the  judge  is  robb'd,  the  prisoner 
dies. 

CO,  teach  me  how  to  make  mine  own  excuse! 

Or,  at  the  least,  this  refuge  let  me  find; 

Though  my  gross  blood  be  stain'd  with  this  abuse, 

Immaculate  and  spotless  is  my  mind; 

That  was  not  forced  ;  that  never  was  inclined 
To  accessary  yieldings,  but  still  pure 
Doth  in  her  poison'd  closet  yet  endure.' 

Lo,  here,  the  hopeless  merchant  of  this  loss,     1660 
With  head  declined,  and  voice  damn'd  up  with  woe, 
With  sad-set  eyes  and  wretched  arms  across, 
From  lips  new-waxen  pale  begins  to  blow 
The  grief  away  that  stops  his  answer  so  : 

But,  wretched  as  he  is,  he  strives  in  vain; 

What  he  breathes  out  his  breath  drinks  up 
again. 

As  through  an  arch  the  violent  roaring  tide 
Outruns  the  eye  that  doth  behold  his  haste, 
Yet  in  the  eddy  boundeth  in  his  pride 
Back  to  the  strait  that  forced  him  on  so  fast,  1670 
In  rage  sent  out,  recall'd  in  rage,  being  past  : 
Even  so  his  sighs,  his  sorrows,  make  a  saw, 
To  push  grief  on  and  back  the  same  grief 
draw. 

1662.  "wretched";  S.  Walker  conj.  "wreathed."—  I.  G» 
XXXIX—  12  177 


The  Bape  of  Lucrece  POEMS 

Which  speechless  woe  of  his  poor  she  attendeth 
And  his  untimely  frenzy  thus  awaketh: 
'Dear  lord,  thy  sorrow  to  my  sorrow  lendeth 
Another  power;  no  flood  by  raining  slaketh. 
My  woe  too  sensible  thy  passion  maketh 

More  feeling-painful:  let  it  then  suffice  1679 
To  drown  one  woe,  one  pair  of  weeping  eyes. 

'And  for  my  sake,  when  I  might  charm  thee  so, 
For  she  that  was  thy  Lucrece,  now  attend  me : 
Be  suddenly  revenged  on  my  foe, 
Thine,  mine,  his  own :  suppose  thou  dost  defend  me 
From  what  is  past :  the  help  that  thou  shalt  lend  me 

Comes  all  too  late,  yet  let  the  traitor  die ; 

For  sparing  justice  feeds  iniquity. 

'But  ere  I  name  him,  you  fair  lords/  quoth  she, 
Speaking  to  those  that  came  with  Collatine, 
'Shall  plight  your  honorable  faiths  to  me,  1690 

With  swift  pursuit  to  venge  this  wrong  of  mine ; 
For  'tis  a  meritorious  fair  design 

To  chase  injustice  with  revengeful  arms: 
Knights,   by  their  oaths,   should  right  poor 
ladies  harms/ 

At  this  request,  with  noble  disposition 
Each  present  lord  began  to  promise  aid, 
As  bound  in  knighthood  to  her  imposition, 
Longing  to  hear  the  hateful  foe  bewray'd. 
But  she,  that  yet  her  sad  task  hath  not  said, 

The    protestation    stops.     'O,    speak/    quoth 
she,  1700 

'How  may  this  forced  stain  be  wiped  from  me? 
178 


POEMS  The  Rape  of  Lucrece 

'What  is  the  quality  of  my  offense, 

Being  constrain'd  with  dreadful  circumstance? 

May  my  pure  mind  with  the  foul  act  dispense, 

My  low-declined  honor  to  advance  ? 

May  any  terms  acquit  me  from  this  chance? 

The  poison'd  fountain  clears  itself  again; 

And  why  not  I  from  this  compelled  stain?' 


With  this,  they  all  at  once  began  to  say, 

Her  body's  stain  her  mind  untainted  clears ;     1710 

While  with  a  joyless  smile  she  turns  away 

The  face,  that  map  which  deep  impression  bears 

Of  hard  misfortune,  carved  in  it  with  tears. 

'No,  no,'  quoth  she,  'no  dame  hereafter  living 
By  my  excuse  shall  claim  excuse's  giving.' 

Here  with  a  sigh,  as  if  her  heart  would  break, 

She  throws  forth  Tarquin's  name:  'He,  he/  she 

says, 

But  more  than  'he'  her  poor  tongue  could  not  speak ; 
Till  after  man  accents  and  delays, 
Untimely  breathings,  sick  and  short  assays,     1720 
She  utters  this :  'He,  he,  fair  lords,  'tis  he, 
That  guides  this  hand  to  give  this  wound  to 
me/ 

Even  here  she  sheathed  in  her  harmless  breast 
A  harmful  knife,  that  thence  her  soul  unsheathed: 
That  blow  did  bail  it  from  the  deep  unrest 
Of  that  polluted  prison  where  it  breathed: 

15J  179 


The  Rape  of  Lucrece  POEMS 

Her  contrite  sighs  unto  the  clouds  bequeathed 

Her  winged  sprite,  and  through  her  wounds 

doth  fly 
Life's  lasting  date  from  cancel'd  destiny. 

Stone-still,  astonish'd  with  this  deadly  deed,     1730 
Stood  Collatine  and  all  his  lordly  crew; 
Till  Lucrece'  father,  that  beholds  her  bleed, 
Himself  on  her  self -slaughtered  body  threw; 
And  from  the  purple  fountain  Brutus  drew 

The  murderous  knife,  and,  as  it  left  the  place, 
Her  blood,  in  poor  revenge,  held  it  in  chase ; 

And  bubbling  from  her  breast,  it  doth  divide 
In  two  slow  rivers,  that  the  crimson  blood 
Circles  her  body  in  on  every  side, 
Who,  like  a  late-sack'd  island,  vastly  stood        1740 
Bare  and  unpeopled  in  this  fearful  flood. 

Some  of  her  blood  still  pure  and  red  remain'd, 
And  some  look'd  black,  and  that  false  Tarquin 
stain'd. 

About  the  mourning  and  congealed  face 
Of  that  black  blood  a  watery  rigol  goes, 
Which  seems  to  weep  upon  the  tainted  place : 
And  ever  since,  as  pitying  Lucrece'  woes, 
Corrupted  blood  some  watery  token  shows; 
And  blood  untainted  still  doth  red  abide, 
Blushing  at  that  which  is  so  putrified.        1750 

1729.  "date3';  period.— C.  H.  H. 

1734.  "Brutus";  Lucius  Junius  Brutus,  whose  father  and  elder 
brother  were  murdered  by  Tarquinius  Superbus,  and  who,  to  escape 
a  like  fate,  feigned  insanity;  whence  his  cognomen. — C.  H.  H. 

180 


>OEMS  The  Rape  of  Lucrece 

aughter,  dear  daughter/  old  Lucretius  cries, 
hat  life  was  mine  which  thou  hast  here  deprived, 
f  in  the  child  the  father's  image  lies, 
Vhere  shall  I  live  now  Lucrece  is  unlived? 
?hou  wast  not  to  this  end  from  me  derived. 
If  children  pre-decease  progenitors, 
We  are  their  offspring,  and  they  none  of  ours. 

Poor  broken  glass,  I  often  did  behold 
n  thy  sweet  semblance  my  old  age  new  born: 
Jut  now  that  fair  fresh  mirror,  dim  and  old,     1760 
Shows  me  a  bare-boned  death  by  time  outworn: 
[),  from  thy  cheeks  my  image  thou  hast  torn, 
And  shiver'd  all  the  beauty  of  my  glass, 
That  I  no  more  can  see  what  once  I  was. 

(3  time,  cease  thou  thy  course  and  last  no  longer, 
f  they  surcease  to  be  that  should  survive. 
Shall  rotten  death  make  conquest  of  the  stronger, 
And  leave  the  faltering  feeble  souls  alive? 
The  old  bees  die,  the  young  possess  their  hive : 

Then   live,    sweet   Lucrece,    live    again,    and 
see  1770 

Thy  father  die,  and  not  thy  father  thee!' 

By  this,  starts  Collatine  as  from  a  dream, 
And  bids  Lucretius  give  his  sorrow  place ; 

then  in  key-cold  Lucrece'  bleeding  stream 
He  falls,  and  bathes  the  pale  fear  in  his  face, 
And  counterfeits  to  die  with  her  a  space ; 

Till  manly  shame  bids  him  possess  his  breath, 
And  live  to  be  revenged  on  her  death. 

"deprived";  taken  away.— C.  H.  H. 
181 


The  Rape  of  Lucrece  POEM! 

The  deep  vexation  of  his  inward  soul 
Hath  served  a  dumb  arrest  upon  his  tongue ;     178 
Who,  mad  that  sorrow  should  his  use  control 
Or  keep  him  from  heart-easing  words  so  long, 
Begins  to  talk;  but  through  his  lips  do  throng 

Weak  words,  so  thick  come  in  his  poor  heart* 
aid 

That  no  man  could  distinguish  what  he  said. 


Yet  sometime  'Tarquin'  was  pronounced  plain, 

But  through  his  teeth,  as  if  the  name  he  tore. 

This  windy  tempest,  till  it  blow  up  rain, 

Held  back  his  sorrow's  tide,  to  make  it  more ; 

At  last  it  rains,  and  busy  winds  give  o'er:         179( 

Then  son  and  father  weep  with  equal  strife 

Who  should  weep  most,  for  daughter  or  foi 

wife. 


The  one  doth  call  her  his,  the  other  his, 
Yet  neither  may  possess  the  claim  they  lay. 
The  father  says  'She  's  mine.'     'O,  mine  she  is/ 
Replies  her  husband:  'do  not  take  away 
My  sorrow's  interest;  let  no  mourner  say 

He  weeps  for  her,  for  she  was  only  mine, 
And  only  must  be  wail'd  by  Collatine.' 

<O/  quoth  Lucretius,  'I  did  give  that  life  1800 

Which  she  too  early  and  too  late  hath  spill'd.' 
*Woe,  woe/  quoth  Collatine,  'she  was  my  wife ; 
I  owed  her,  and  'tis  mine  that  she  hath  kill'd.' 

182 


POEMS  The  Rape  of  Lucrece 

'My  daughter'  and  'my  wife'  with  clamors  filTd 
The  dispersed  air,  who,  holding  Lucrece'  life, 
Answer'd  their  cries,  'my  daughter'  and  'my: 
wife.' 


Brutus,  who  pluck'd  the  knife  from  Lucrece'  side, 
Seeing  such  emulation  in  their  woe, 
Began  to  clothe  his  wit  in  state  and  pride, 
Burying  in  Lucrece'  wound  his  folly's  show.     1810 
He  with  the  Romans  was  esteemed  so 

As  silly- jeering  idiots  are  with  kings, 
For    sportive    words    and    uttering    foolish 
things: 

But  now  he  throws  that  shallow  habit  by 

Wherein  deep  policy  did  him  disguise, 

And  arm'd  his  long-hid  wits  advisedly 

To  check  the  tears  in  Collatinus'  eyes. 

'Thou  wronged  lord  of  Rome,'  quoth  he,  'arise: 

Let  my  unsounded  self,  supposed  a  fool,     1819 
Now  set  thy  long-experienced  wit  to  school. 

'Why,  Collatine,  is  woe  the  cure  for  woe? 

Do  wounds  help  wounds,  or  grief  help  grievous 
deeds? 

Is  it  revenge  to  give  thyself  a  blow 

For  his  foul  act  by  whom  thy  fair  wife  bleeds? 

Such  childish  humor  from  weak  minds  proceeds : 
Thy  wretched  wife  mistook  the  matter  so, 
To  slay  herself,  that  should  have  slain  her  foe. 

1819.  "unsounded";  unexplored.— C.  H.   H. 
183 


The  Rape  of  Lucrece  POEMS 

"Courageous  Roman,  do  not  steep  thy  heart 
In  such  relenting  dew  of  lamentations, 
But  kneel  with  me  and  help  to  bear  thy  part     1830 
To  rouse  our  Roman  gods  with  invocations 
That  they  will  suffer  these  abominations, 

Since  Rome  herself  in  them  doth  stand  dis- 
graced, 

By  our  strong  arms  from  forth  her  fair  streets, 
chased. 

'Now,  by  the  Capitol  that  we  adore, 

And  by  this  chaste  blood  so  unjustly  stained, 

By  heaven's  fair  sun  that  breeds  the  fat  earth's 

store, 

By  all  our  country  rights  in  Rome  maintained, 
And  by  chaste  Lucrece'  soul  that  late  complained 
Her  wrongs  to  us,  and  by  this  bloody  knife, 
We  will  revenge  the  death  of  this  true  wife !' 

This  said,  he  struck  his  hand  upon  his  breast,      1842 
And  kiss'd  the  fatal  knife,  to  end  his  vow, 
And  to  his  protestation  urged  the  rest, 
Who,  wondering  at  him,  did  his  words  allow : 
Then  jointly  to  the  ground  their  knees  they  bow; 
And  that  deep  vow,  which  Brutus  made  before, 
He  doth  again  repeat,  and  that  they  swore. 

When  they  had  sworn  to  this  advised  doom, 
They  did  conclude  to  bear  dear  Lucrece  thence,  1850 
To  show  her  bleeding  body  thorough  Rome, 

1834.  "from   forth   her   fair   streets   chased";   the   construction   is, 
"that  they  will  suffer  these  abominations  to  be  chased." — H.  N.  H. 

184 


'OEMS  The  Rape  of  Lucrece 

And  so  to  publish  Tarquin's  foul  offense : 
/Vhich  being  done  with  speedy  diligence, 
The  Romans  plausibly  did  give  consent 
To  Tarquin's  everlasting  banishment. 


185 


LOVER'S  COMPLAIN! 


PREFACE 

By  ISRAEL  GOI/LANCZ,  M.A. 

A  Lover's  Complaint  was  first  printed  in  1609,  at  the 
end  of  the  volume  of  Sonnets. 

In*  all  probability  the  poem  belongs  to  about  the  same 
period  as  The  Rape  of  Liwrece;  it  is  written  in  the  same 
meter.  Francis  Meres  may  possibly  have  included  it  in  his 
suggestive  "et  cetera,"  when  he  enumerated  the  poems  of 
"mellifluous  and  honey-tongued  Shakespeare.55 

The  framework  of  A  Lover' 's  Complaint,  its  picturesque- 
ness,  versification,  diction,  repression,  tenderness,  and 
beauty,  give  to  it  a  thoroughly  Spenserian  character,  and 
convey  the  impression  that  we  have  here  an  early  exercise  in 
the  Spenserian  style;  as  such  the  poem  links  itself  ulti- 
mately to  the  exquisite  Complaints  of  Spenser's  great  mas 
ter,  Geoffrey  Chaucer,  with  their  ruthful  burden: — "Pite 
is  dede  and  buried  in  gentil  herte." 

1  Spenser's  volume  entitled  "Complaints :  containing  Sundry  Small 
Poems  of  the  World's  Vanity"  was  published  in  1591:  cp.  the  fol- 
lowing opening  lines  of  The  Ruins  of  Time  with  A  Lover's  Coir 
plaint: — 

"A  woman  sitting  sorrowfully  wailing 
Rending  her  yellow  locks  like  wiry  gold, 
About  her  shoulders  carelessly  down  trailing, 
And  streams  of  tears  from  her  fair  eyes  forth  railing' 
In  her  right  hand  a  broken  rod  she  held, 
Which  towards  heaven  she  seemed  on  high  tc.  weld." 


189 


A  LOVER'S  COMPLAINT 

FROM  off  a  hill  whose  concave  womb  re-worded 
A  plaintful  story  from  a  sistering  vale, 
My  spirits  to  attend  this  double  voice  accorded, 
And  down  I  laid  to  list  the  sad-tuned  tale; 
Ere  long  espied  a  fickle  maid  full  pale, 
Tearing  of  papers,  breaking  rings  a-twain, 
Storming  her  world  with  sorrow's  wind  and  rain. 

Upon  her  head  a  platted  hive  of  straw, 

Which  fortified  her  visage  from  the  sun,  9 

Whereon  the  thought  might  think  sometime  it  saw 

The  carcass  of  a  beauty  spent  and  done : 

Time  had  not  scythed  all  that  youth  begun, 

Nor  youth  all  quit ;  but,  spite  of  heaven's  fell  rage, 

Some  beauty  peep'd  through  lattice  of  sear'd  age. 

Oft  did  she  heave  her  napkin  to  her  eyne, 

Which  on  it  had  conceited  characters, 

Laundering  the  silken  figures  in  the  brine 

That  season'd  woe  had  pelleted  in  tears, 

And  often  reading  what  contents  it  bears ; 

As  often  shrieking  undistinguish'd  woe,  20 

In  clamors  of  all  size,  both  high  and  low. 

1.  "recorded";  re-echoed.— C.  H.  H. 

2.  "sistering";  neighboring.— C.  H.  H. 
12.  "scythed";  Q.,  "tithed."— I.  G. 

191 


A  Lover's  Complaint  POEMS 

Sometimes  her  level'd  eyes  their  carriage  ride, 
As  they  did  battery  to  the  spheres  intend; 
Sometime  diverted  their  poor  balls  are  tied 
To  the  orbed  earth ;  sometimes  they  do  extend 
Their  view  right  on ;  anon  their  gazes  lend 
To  every  place  at  once,  and  nowhere  fix'd 
The  mind  and  sight  distractedly  commix'd. 

Her  hair,  nor  loose  nor  tied  in  formal  plat, 
Proclaimed  in  her  a  careless  hand  of  pride ;  30 

For  some,  untuck'd,  descended  her  sheaved  hat, 
Hanging  her  pale  and  pined  cheek  beside; 
Some  in  her  threaden  fillet  still  did  bide, 
And,  true  to  bondage,  would  not  break  from  thence, 
Though  slackly  braided  in  loose  negligence. 

A  thousand  favors  from  a  maund  she  drew 

Of  amber,  crystal,  and  of  beaded  jet, 

Which  one  by  one  she  in  a  river  threw, 

Upon  whose  weeping  mar  gent  she  was  set; 

Like  usury,  applying  wet  to  wet,  40 

Or  monarch's  hands  that  lets  not  bounty  fall 

Where  want  cries  some,  but  where  excess  begs  all. 

Of  folded  schedules  had  she  many  a  one, 
Which  she  perused,  sigh'd,  tore,  and  gave  the  flood ; 
Crack'd  many  a  ring  of  poised  gold  and  bone, 
Bidding  them  find  their  sepulchers  in  mud; 

37.  "beaded";  Q.,  "bedded"  ( ? ^"imbedded,  set").— I-  G. 

39.  "weeping  mar  gent";  Malone  conj.  "mar  gent  weeping." — I.  G. 

40.  "Like  usury"  because  adding  more  to  what  is  already  too  much. 
— H.  N.  H. 

192 


POEMS  A  Lover's  Complaint 

Found  yet  moe  letters  sadly  penn'd  in  blood, 
With  sleided  silk  feat  and  affectedly 
Enswathed,  and  seal'd  to  curious  secrecy. 

These  often  bathed  she  in  her  fluxive  eyes,  50 

And  often  kiss'd,  and  often  'gan  to  tear; 
Cried  'O  false  blood,  thou  register  of  lies, 
What  unapproved  witness  dost  thou  bear! 
Ink  would  have  seem'd  more  black  and  damned 

here !' 

This  said,  in  top  of  rage  the  lines  she  rents, 
Big  discontent  so  breaking  their  contents. 

A  reverend  man  that  grazed  his  cattle  nigh — 

Sometime  a  blusterer,  that  the  ruffle  knew 

Of  court,  of  city,  and  had  let  go  by 

The  swiftest  hours,  observed  as  they  flew —          60 

Towards  this  afflicted  fancy  fastly  drew; 

And,  privileged  by  age,  desires  to  know 

In  brief  the  grounds  and  motives  of  her  woe. 

So  slides  he  down  upon  his  grained  bat, 
And  comely-distant  sits  he  by  her  side ; 
When  he  again  desires  her,  being  sat, 
Her  grievance  with  his  hearing  to  divide : 
If  that  from  him  there  may  be  aught  applied 

51.  "'gan  to  tear";  Q.5  "gaue  to  teare";  Gildon,  "gave  a  tear" — 
I.  G. 

58.  "blusterer";  a  boisterous  fellow.— C.  H.  H. 

60.  "observed    as   they    flew";    the    clause    is    probably    connected 
with  "hours";  "the  reverend  man  had  not  let  the  swift  hours  pass 
by  without  gaining  some  knowledge   of  the  world";   it  is   possible, 
however,  that  "they"  refers  to  the  torn-up  letters. — I.  G. 
XXXIX— 13  193 


A  Lover's  Complaint  POEMS 

Which  may  her  suffering  ecstasy  assuage, 

'Tis  promised  in  the  charity  of  age.  70 

'Father/  she  says,  'though  in  me  you  behold 
The  injury  of  many  a  blasting  hour, 
Let  it  not  tell  your  judgment  I  am  old ; 
Not  age,  but  sorrow,  over  me  hath  power: 
I  might  as  yet  have  been  a  spreading  flower, 
Fresh  to  myself,  if  I  had  self -applied 
Love  to  myself,  and  to  no  love  beside. 

'But,  woe  is  me !  too  early  I  attended 

A  youthful  suit — it  was  to  gain  my  grace — 

Of  one  by  nature's  outwards  so  commended,         80 

That  maidens'  eyes  stuck  over  all  his  face : 

Love  lack'd  a  dwelling  and  made  him  her  place ; 

And  when  in  his  fair  parts  she  did  abide, 

She  was  new  lodged  and  newly  deified. 

'His  browny  locks  did  hang  in  crooked  curls ; 
And  every  light  occasion  of  the  wind 
Upon  his  lips  their  silken  parcels  hurls. 
What 's  sweet  to  do,  to  do  will  aptly  find : 
Each  eye  that  saw  him  did  enchant  the  mind; 
For  on  his  visage  was  in  little  drawn  90 

What  largeness  thinks  in  Paradise  was  sawn. 

'Small  show  of  man  was  yet  upon  his  chin; 
His  phoenix  down  began  but  to  appear, 
Like  unshorn  velvet,  on  that  termless  skin, 
Whose  bare  out-bragg'd  the  web  it  seem'd  to  wear: 
Yet  show'd  his  visage  by  that  cost  more  dear ; 

194 


POEMS  A  Lover's  Complaint 

And  nice  affections  wavering  stood  in  doubt 
If  best  were  as  it  was,  or  best  without. 


'His  qualities  were  beauteous  as  his  form, 

For  maiden-tongued  he  was,  and  thereof  free ;     100 

Yet,  if  men  moved  him,  was  he  such  a  storm 

As  oft  'twixt  May  and  April  is  to  see, 

When  winds  breathe  sweet,  unruly  though  they  be. 

His  rudeness  so  with  his  authorized  youth 

Did  livery  falseness  in  a  pride  of  truth. 

"Well  could  he  ride,  and  often  men  would  say, 
"That  horse  his  mettle  from  his  rider  takes: 
Proud  of  subjection,  noble  by  the  sway, 
What  rounds,  what  bounds,  what  course,  what  stop 

he  makes!" 

And  controversy  hence  a  question  takes,  110 

Whether  the  horse  by  hiiji  became  his  deed, 
Or  he  his  manage  by  the  well-doing  steed. 

'But  quickly  on  this  side  the  verdict  went: 

His  real  habitude  gave  life  and  grace 

To  appertainings  and  to  ornament, 

Accomplish'd  in  himself,  not  in  his  case: 

All  aids,  themselves  made  fairer  by  their  place, 

Came  for  additions ;  yet  their  purposed  trim 

Pierced  not  his  grace,  but  were  all  graced  by  him. 

112.  "manage";  Q.,  "mannad'g."—!.  G. 

118.  "came";  SewelPs  correction;  Q.,  "can";  SewelPs  2nd  ed.,  "can 
for  additions  get  their  purpose  trim" — I.  G. 

195 


A  Lover's  Complaint  POEMS 

• 

'So  on  the  tip  of  his  subduing  tongue 
All  kinds  of  arguments  and  question  deep, 
All  replication  prompt  and  reason  strong, 
For  his  advantage  still  did  wake  and  sleep : 
To  make  the  weeper  laugh,  the  laugher  weep, 
He  had  the  dialect  and  different  skill, 
Catching  all  passions  in  his  craft  of  will: 

'That  he  did  in  the  general  bosom  reign 

Of  young,  of  old,  and  sexes  both  enchanted, 

To  dwell  with  him  in  thoughts,  or  to  remain 

In  personal  duty,  following  where  he  haunted :  130 

Consents  bewitch'd,  ere  he  desire,  have  granted, 

And  dialogued  for  him  what  he  would  say, 

Ask'd  their  own  wills  and  made  their  wills  obey. 

'Many  there  were  that  did  his  picture  get, 

To  serve  their  eyes,  and  in  it  put  their  mind; 

Like  fools  that  in  the  imagination  set 

The  goodly  objects  which  abroad  they  find 

Of  lands  and  mansions,  theirs  in  thought  assigned: 

And  laboring  in  moe  pleasures  to  bestow  them  139 

Than  the  true  gouty  landlord  which  doth  owe  them: 

'So  many  have,  that  never  touched  his  hand, 
Sweetly  supposed  them  mistress  of  his  heart* 
My  woeful  self,  that  did  in  freedom  stand, 
And  was  my  own  fee-simple,  not  in  part, 
What  with  his  art  in  youth  and  youth  in  art, 

126.  "catching  all  passions  in  his  craft  of  will";  what  a  just  and 
admirable  description  of  the  Poet  himself !— H.  N.  H. 

196 


POEMS  A  Lover's  Complaint 

Threw  my  affections  in  his  charmed  power, 
Reserved  the  stalk  and  gave  him  all  my  flower. 

'Yet  did  I  not,  as  some  my  equals  did, 

Demand  of  him,  nor  being  desired  yielded; 

Finding  myself  in  honor  so  forbid,  150 

With  safest  distance  I  mine  honor  shielded: 

Experience  for  me  many  bulwarks  builded 

Of  proofs  new-bleeding,  which  remain'd  the  foil 

Of  this  false  jewel,  and  his  amorous  spoil. 

'But,  ah,  who  ever  shunn'd  by  precedent 

The  destined  ill  she  must  herself  assay? 

Or  forced  examples,  'gainst  her  own  content, 

To  put  the  by-past  perils  in  her  way? 

Counsel  may  stop  awhile  what  will  not  stay ; 

For  when  we  rage,  advice  is  often  seen  160 

By  blunting  us  to  make  our  wits  more  keen. 

'Nor  gives  it  satisfaction  to  our  blood, 
That  we  must  curb  it  upon  others'  proof; 
To  be  f  orbod  the  sweets  that  seem  so  good, 
For  fear  of  harms  that  preach  in  our  behoof. 
O  appetite,  from  judgment  stand  aloof! 
The  one  a  palate  hath  that  needs  will  taste, 
Though  Reason  weep,  and  cry  "It  is  thy  last." 

Tor  further  I  could  say  "This  man  's  untrue," 
And  kaew  the  patterns  of  his  foul  beguiling;     170 

164.  "f orbod";  forbidden   (O.  E.  forboden).—C.  H.  H. 
"sweets  that  seem";  Q.,  "sweets  that  seemes";  Capell  MS.,  "sweet 
that  seems" — I.  G. 

197 


A  Lover's  Complaint  POEMS 

Heard  where  his  plants  in  others'  orchards  grew, 
Saw  how  deceits  were  gilded  in  his  smiling; 
Knew  vows  were  ever  brokers  to  defiling; 
Thought  characters  and  words  merely  but  art, 
And  bastards  of  his  foul  adulterate  heart. 

'And  long  upon  these  terms  I  held  my  city, 

Till  thus  he  'gan  besiege  me:  "Gentle  maid, 

Have  of  my  suffering  youth  some  feeling  pity, 

And  be -not  of  my  holy  vows  afraid: 

That 's  to  ye  sworn  to  none  was  ever  said ;  180 

For  feasts  of  love  I  have  been  call'd  unto, 

Till  now  did  ne'er  invite,  nor  never  woo. 

'*  "All  my  offenses  that  abroad  you  see 

Are  errors  of  the  blood,  none  of  the  mind ; 

Love  made  them  not :  with  acture  they  may  be, 

Where  neither  party  is  nor  true  nor  kind: 

They  sought  their  shame  that  so  their  shame  did 

find; 

And  so  much  less  of  shame  in  me  remains 
By  how  much  of  me  their  reproach  contains. 

*  "Among  the  many  that  mine  eyes  have  seen,     190 

Not  one  whose  flame  my  heart  so  much  as  warmed, 

Or  my  affection  put  to  the  smallest  teen, 

Or  any  of  my  leisures  ever  charmed: 

Harm  have  I  done  to  them,  but  ne'er  was  harm'd; 

Kept  hearts  in  liveries,  but  mine  own  was  free, 

And  reign'd,  commanding  in  his  monarchy.  * 

173.  "Broker*'  was  used  for  a  pander  or  go-between. — H.  N.  H. 
182.  "woo";  Q.,  "vow."— I.  G. 

198 


POEMS  A  Lover 's  Complaint 

6  "Look  here,  what  tributes  wounded  fancies  sent 

me, 

Of  paled  pearls  and  rubies  red  as  blood; 
Figuring  that  they  their  passions  likewise  lent  me 
Of  grief  and  blushes,  aptly  understood  200 

In  bloodless  white  and  the  encrimson'd  mood; 
Effects  of  terror  and  dear  modesty, 
Encamp'd  in  hearts,  but  fighting  outwardly. 

"And,  lo,  behold  these  talents  of  their  hair, 
With  twisted  metal  amorously  impleach'd, 
I  have  received  from  many  a  several  fair, 
Their  kind  acceptance  weepingly  beseech'd, 
With  the  annexions  of  fair  gems  enrich'd, 
And  deep-brain'd  sonnets  that  did  amplify 
Each  stone's  dear  nature,  worth  and  quality.     210 

"The  diamond,  why,  'twas  beautiful  and  hard, 
Whereto  his  in  vised  properties  did  tend ; 
The  deep-green  emerald,  in  whose  fresh  regard 
Weak  sights  their  sickly  radiance  do  amend; 
The  heaven-hued  sapphire  and  the  opal  blend 
With  objects  manifold:  each  several  stone, 
With  wit  well  blazon'd,  smiled  or  made  some  moan. 

"Lo,  all  these  trophies  Of  affections  hot, 
Of  pensived  and  subdued  desires  the  tender, 
Nature  hath  charged  me  that  I  hoard  them  not,  220 
But  yield  them  up  where  I  myself  must  render, 
That  is,  to  you,  my  origin  and  ender; 
For  these,  of  force,  must  your  oblations  be, 
Since  I  their  altar,  you  enpatron  me. 

199 


A  Lover's  Complaint  POEMS 

c  "O,  then,  advance  of  yours  that  phraseless  hand, 
Whose  white  weighs  down  the  airy  scale  of  praise ; 
Take  all  these  similes  to  your  OWQ  command, 
Hallow'd  with  sighs  that  burning  lungs  did  raise ; 
What  me  your  minister,  for  you  obeys, 
Works  under  you ;  and  to  your  audit  comes         230 
Their  distract  parcels  in  combined  sums. 

•  "Lo,  this  device  was  sent  me  from  a  nun, 
Or  sister  sanctified,  of  holiest  note ; 
Which  late  her  noble  suit  in  court  did  shun, 
Whose  rarest  havings  made  the  blossoms  dote ; 
For  she  was  sought  by  spirits  of  richest  coat, 
But  kept  cold  distance,  and  did  thence  remove, 
To  spend  her  living  in  eternal  love. 

"But,  O  my  sweet,  what  labor  is  't  to  leave         239 
The  thing  we  have  not,  mastering  what  not  strives, 
Playing  the  place  which  did  no  form  receive, 
Playing  patient  sports  in  unconstrained  gyves? 
She  that  her  fame  so  to  herself  contrives, 
The  scars  of  battle  'scapeth  by  the  flight, 
And  makes  her  absence  valiant,  not  her  might. 

"O,  pardon  me,  in  that  my  boast  is  true: 
The  accident  which  brought  me  to  her  eye 

228.  "Hallow'd";  Q.,  "hollowed";  SewelPs  correction.— I.  G. 

234.  "in  court  did  shun";  that  is,  retired  from  the  solicitation  of 
her  noble  suitors. — H.  N.  H. 

241.  "playing  the  place";  some  error  due  to  the  printer  has  spoiled 
the  line;  the  first  word  of  the  line  has  been  caught  up  by  the  com- 
positor's eye  from  the  first  of  the  next  line,  or  vice  versa:  the  most 
ingenious  and  plausible  emendation  is  "paling"  for  "playing."-* 
I.  G. 

200 


POEMS  A  Lover's  Complaint 

Upon  the  moment  did  her  force  subdue, 
And  now  she  would  the  caged  cloister  fly: 
Religious  love  put  out  Religion's  eye:  250 

Not  to  be  tempted,  would  she  be  immured, 
And  now,  to  tempt  all,  liberty  procured. 

*  "How  mighty  then  you  are,  O,  hear  me  tell! 
The  broken  bosoms  that  to  me  belong 

Have  emptied  all  their  fountains  in  my  well, 

And  mine  I  pour  your  ocean  all  among : 

I  strong  o'er  them,  and  you  o'er  me  being  strong, 

Must  for  your  victory  us  all  congest, 

As  compound  love  to  physic  your  cold  breast. 

*  "My  parts  had  power  to  charm  a  sacred  nun,     260 
Who  disciplined,  aye,  dieted  in  grace, 

Believed  her  eyes  when  they  to  assail  begun, 
All  vows  and  consecrations  giving  place: 
O  most  potential  love !  vow,  bond,  nor  space, 
In  thee  hath  neither  sting,  knot,  nor  confine, 
For  thou  art  all,  and  all  things  else  are  thine. 

"When  thou  impressest,  what  are  precepts  worth 
Of  stale  example?     When  thou  wilt  inflame, 
How  boldly  those  impediments  stand  forth 
Of  wealth,  of  filial  fear,  law,  kindred,  fame!     270 
Love's  arms  are  peace,  'gainst  rule,  'gainst  sense, 
'gainst  shame; 

260.  "nun";  Q.,  "Sunne."—!.  G. 

261.  "aye";  Q.,  "I"— I.  G. 

261.  "dieted  in  grace";  of  the  original,  some  copies  have  I  died, 
others,  /  dieted,  which  was  changed  to  and  dieted  by  Malone. — 
H.  N.  H. 

271.  "Love' 8  arms  are  peace";  so  Q.;  Capell  MS.  and  Malone  conj. 

201 


A  Lover's  Complaint  POEMS 

And  sweetens,  in  the  suffering  pangs  it  bears, 
The  aloes  of  all  forces,  shocks  and  fears. 

'  "Now  all  these  hearts  that  do  on  mine  depend, 

Feeling  it  break,  with  bleeding  groans  they  pine ; 

And  supplicant  their  sighs  to  you  extend, 

To  leave  the  battery  that  you  make  'gainst  mine, 

Lending  soft  audience  to  my  sweet  design, 

And  credent  soul  to  that  strong-bonded  oath 

That  shall  prefer  and  undertake  my  troth."       280 

'This  said,  his  watery  eyes  he  did  dismount, 
Whose  sights  till  then  were  level'd  on  my  face ; 
Each  cheek  a  river  running  from  a  fount 
With  brinish  current  downward  flow'd  apace: 
O,  how  the  channel  to  the  stream  gave  grace! 
Who  glazed  with  crystal  gate  the  glowing  roses 
That  flame  through  water  which  their  hue  encloses. 

'O  father,  what  a  hell  of  witchcraft  lies 

In  the  small  orb  of  one  particular  tear! 

But  with  the  inundation  of  the  eyes  290 

What  rocky  heart  to  water  will  not  wear? 

What  breast  so  cold  that  is  not  warmed  here? 

O  cleft  effect!  cold  modesty,  hot  wrath, 

Both  fire  from  hence  and  chill  extincture  hath. 

"proof"  for  "peace,"  a  plausible  change,  if  any  is  necessary;  othei 
readings  are: — "Love  aims  at  peace";  "Love  charms  our  peace"; 
"Love  aims  a  piece"  etc. — I.  G. 

286.  "who  glaz'd  with  crystal  gate";  Malone,  "who,  glaz'd  with 
crystal,  gate"  (i.  e.  #a£e— "the  ancient  perfect  tense  of  the  verb 
to  get"  flame  being  its  object). — I.  G. 

202 


POEMS  A  Lover's  Complaint 

'For,  lo,  his  passion,  but  an  art  of  craft, 
Even  there  resolved  my  reason  into  tears ; 
There  my  white  stole  of  chastity  I  daff  'd, 
Shook  off  my  sober  guards  and  civil  fears ; 
Appear  to  him,  as  he  to  me  appears,  299 

All  melting ;  though  our  drops  this  difference  bore, 
His  poison'd  me,  and  mine  did  him  restore. 

'In  him  a  plenitude  of  subtle  matter, 

Applied  to  cautels,  all  strange  forms  receives, 

Of  burning  blushes,  or  of  weeping  water, 

Or  swounding  paleness ;  and  he  takes  and  leaves, 

In  cither's  aptness,  as  it  best  deceives, 

To  blush  at  speeches  rank,  to  weep  at  woes, 

Or  to  turn  white  and  swound  at  tragic  shows : 

'That  not  a  heart  which  in  his  level  came 
Could  'scape  the  hail  of  his  all-hurting  aim,         31( 
Showing  fair  nature  is  both  kind  and  tame ; 
And,  veil'd  in  them,  did  win  whom  he  would  maim : 
Against  the  thing  he  sought  he  would  exclaim; 
When  he  most  burn'd  in  heart-wish'd  luxury, 
He  preach'd  pure  maid  and  praised  cold  chastity. 

'Thus  merely  with  the  garment  of  a  Grace 
The  naked  and  concealed  fiend  he  cover'd; 
That  the  unexperienct  gave  the  tempter  place, 
Which,  like  a  cherubin,  above  them  hover'd. 
Who,  young  and  simple,  would  not  be  so  lover 'd? 

308.  "swound";  Q.,  "sound,"  cp.  305,  "swounding";  Q.,  "sounding." 
—I.  G. 

903 


A  Lover's  Complaint  POEMS 

Aye  me!  I  fell,  and  yet  do  question  make  321 

What  I  should  do  again  for  such  a  sake. 

'O,  that  infected  moisture  of  his  eye, 

O,  that  false  fire  which  in  his  cheek  so  glow'd, 

O,  that  forced  thunder  from  his  heart  did  fly, 

O,  that  sad  breath  his  spongy  lungs  bestow'd, 

O,  all  that  borrow'd  motion  seeming  owed, 

Would  yet  again  betray  the  fore-betray'd, 

And  new  pervert  a  reconciled  maid!'  329 

327.  "seeming   owed";   that  is,   that   seemed   real   and   his   own. — 
H.  N.  H. 


THE  PHCENIX  AND  THE  TURTLE 


PREFACE 

By  ISRAEL  GOKLANCZ,  M.A. 

The  Phoenix  and  the  Turtle  first  appeared  in  a  collection 
published  by  Robert  Chester  in  1601,  under  the  following 
descriptive  title : — 

"Love's  Martyr;  or  Rosalinds  Complaint.  Allegorically 
shadowing  the  truth  of  Love  in  the  constant  Fate  of  the 
Phoenix  and  Turtle.  A  Poem  enterlaced  with  much  v&- 
rietie  and  raritie;  now  first  translated  out  of  the  venerable 
Italian  Torquato  Codiano,  by  Robert  Chester.  With  the 
true  legend  of  famous  King  Arthur,  the  last  of  the  nme 
Worthies,  being  the  first  essay  of  a  new  British  poet;  col- 
lected out  of  diverse  authentical  Records.  To  these  are 
added  some  new  compositions,  of  several  modern  writers 
whose  names  are  subscribed  to  their  several  works,  upon  the 
•first  subject:  viz.,  the  Phoenix  and  Turtle." 

The  following  title  prefaces  these  new  compositions: — 

"HEREAFTER  |  FOLLOW  DIVERSE  |  Poeticall  Essaies  on 
the  former  sub-  |  ject;  viz.  the  Turtle  and  Phoenix.  Done 
by  the  best  and  chief est  of  our  \  moderne  writers  with  their 
names  sub-  |  scribed  to  their  particular  works:  |  never  be- 
fore extant:  \  And  (now  first)  consecrated  by  them  all 
nnerally,  |  to  the  love  and  merit  of  the  true-noble  Knight, 
Sir  John  Salisburie.  |  Dignum  laude  virum  Musa  vetat 
mori.  MDCL" 

The  genuineness  of  the  contribution  with  Shakespeare's1 
name  subscribed  is  now  generally  admitted,  though  no 
successful  attempt  has  yet  been  made  to  explain  the  alle- 
gory, nor  is  any  light  thrown  upon  it  by  the  other  poems 
in  the  collection ;  among  the  contributors,  in  addition  to 
Shakespeare,  were  Jonson,  Chapman,  and  Marston.  In  all 

207 


The  Phoenix  and  the  Turtle  POEMS 

probability  the  occasion  and  subject  of  the  whole  collec- 
tion, which  has  so  long  baffled  patient  research,  will  some 
day  be  discovered,  and  Shakespeare's  meaning  will  be  clear. 
It  would  seem  from  the  title-page  that  the  private  family 
history  of  Sir  John  Salisbury  ought  to  yield  the  neces- 
sary clue  to  the  events.  There  is  not  much  to  be  said  in 
favor  of  the  view  that  the  PJuznix  shadows  forth  Queen 
Elizabeth,  and  the  Turtle-dove  typifies  "the  brilliant  but 
impetuous,  the  greatly  dowered  but  rash,  the  illustrious  but 
unhappy  Robert  Devereux,  second  Earl  of  Essex."  On 
the  other  hand,  the  problem  is  not  settled  by  describing  the 
allegory  as  "the  delineation  of  spiritual  union,"  and  refus- 
ing to  recognize  the  personal  allegory. 

Emerson's  words  2  may  well  bear  repetition : — "I  should 
like  to  have  the  Academy  of  Letters  propose  a  prize  for 
an  essay  on  Shakespeare's  poem,  Let  the  bird  of  loudest 
lay,  and  the  Threnos  with  which  it  closes,  the  aim  of  the 
essay  being  to  explain,  by  a  historical  research  into  the 
poetic  myths  and  tendencies  of  the  age  in  which  it  was  writ- 
ten, the  frame  and  allusions  of  the  poem." 

"Now  yield  your  aids,     .     .     .     light  my  weaker  eye, 

•     •     • 

That  whilst  of  this  same  Metaphysical, 
God,  man,  nor  woman,  but  elir'd  of  all, 
My  labouring  thoughts  with  strained  ardour  sing, 
My  muse  may  mount  with  an  uncommon  wing." 

1  Cp.   Dr.   Grosart's   edition  of  Love's  Martyr    (New   Shak.   Soc. 
1878) ;  vide  also  the  same  scholar's  remarks  in  his  privately  printed 
scarce  Elizabethan  books,  Manchester,  1880,  etc.;  cp.  Transactions  of 
New  Shak.  Soc. 

2  Preface  to  Parnassus,  1875. 


208 


THE  PHOENIX  AND  THE  TURTLE 

LET  the  bird  of  loudest  lay, 
On  the  sole  Arabian  tree, 
Herald  sad  and  trumpet  be, 
To  whose  sound  chaste  wings  obey. 

But  thou  shrieking  harbinger, 
Foul  precurrer  of  the  fiend, 
Augur  of  the  fever's  end, 
To  this  troop  come  thou  not  near! 

From  this  session  interdict 
Every  fowl  of  tyrant  wing,  10 

Save  the  eagle,  feather'd  king: 
Keep  the  obsequy  so  strict. 

Let  the  priest  in  surplice  white. 
That  defunctive  music  can, 
Be  the  death-divining  swan, 
Lest  the  requiem  lack  his  right. 

This  poem  is  an  independent  matter,  and  was  printed  in  Robert 
Chester's  Love's  Martyr,  or  Rosalin's  Complaint,  1601,  among  what 
are  there  called  "New  Compositions  of  Modern  Writers  whose  names 
are  subscribed  to  their  several  works."  It  was  printed  with  Shake- 
speare's name  at  the  bottom. — H.  N.  H. 

1.  "the  bird  of  loudest  lay"  is  several  times  alluded  to  by  Shake- 
speare as  the  "Arabian  bird."— H.  N.  H. 
XXXIX— 14  20.9 


The  Phoenix  and  the  Turtle  POEMS 

And  thou  treble-dated  crow, 

That  thy  sable  gender  makest 

With  the  breath  thou  givest  and  takest, 

'Mongst  our  mourners  shalt  thou  go.       20 

Here  the  anthem  doth  commence: 
Love  and  constancy  is  dead; 
Phoenix  and  the  turtle  fled 
In  a  mutual  flame  from  hence. 

So  they  loved,  as  love  in  twain 
Had  the  essence  but  in  one ; 
Two  distincts,  division  none: 
Number  there  in  love  was  slain. 

Hearts  remote,  yet  not  asunder; 
Distance,  and  no  space  was  seen  30 

'Twixt  the  turtle  and  his  queen: 
But  in  them  it  were  a  wonder. 

So  between  them  love  did  shine, 
That  the  turtle  saw  his  right 
Flaming  in  the  phoenix's  sight; 
Either  was  the  other's  mine. 


Property  was  thus  appalled, 
That  the  self  was  not  the  same ; 
Single  nature's  double  name 
Neither  two  nor  one  was  called. 

18.  "gender";  race.— C.   H.   H. 
210 


POEMS  The  Phoenix  and  the  Turtle 

Reason,  in  itself  confounded, 
Saw  division  grow  together, 
To  themselves  yet  either  neither, 
Simple  were  so  well  compounded; 

That  it  cried,  How  true  a  twain 
Seemeth  this  concordant  one! 
Love  hath  reason,  reason  none, 
If  what  parts  can  so  remain. 

Whereupon  it  made  this  threne 

To  the  phoenix  and  the  dove,  50 

Co-supremes  and  stars  of  love, 

As  chorus  to  their  tragic  scene. 


THRENOS 

Beauty,  truth,  and  rarity, 
Grace  in  all  simplicity, 
Here  enclosed  in  cinders  lie. 

Death  is  now  the  phoenix'  nest; 
And  the  turtle's  ioyal  breast 
To  eternity  doth  rest, 

Leaving  no  posterity: 
'Twas  not  their  infirmity, 
It  was  married  chastity. 

16J  211 


The  Phoenix  and  the  Turtle  POEMS 

Truth  may  seem,  but  cannot  be; 
Beauty  brag,  but  'tis  not  she; 
Truth  and  beauty  buried  be. 

To  this  urn  let  those  repair 

That  are  either  true  or  fair ; 

For  these  dead  birds  sigh  a  prayer. 


212 


GLOSSARY 


By  ISRAEL  GOLXANCZ,  M.A. 

Ven.—  Venus  and  Adonis;  P.  P.=  Passionate  Pilgrim;  Comp.=  A 
Lover's  Complaint ;  Luc.=  Rape  of  Lucrece ;  Ph.=  Phoenix  and  Turtle. 


ACCORDED,  agreed;  Comp.  3. 

ACTURE,  action;  Comp.  185. 

ADDRESSED,  prepared,  ready;  Luc. 
1606. 

ADJUNCT,  "be  adj.,"  follow  as  a 
consequence;  Luc.  133. 

ADVANCE,  raise;  Luc.   1705. 

ADVISEDLY,  deliberately ;  Ven. 
457,  Luc.  180,  1527,  1816. 

AFFECTED,  enamored;  Ven.  157. 

AFFECTION'S,  passion's;  Luc.  500. 

ALARMS,  alarums,  attacks;  Ven. 
424. 

ALLOW,  approve;  Luc.  1845. 

ALL-TOO-TIMELESS,  altogether  un- 
seasonable; Luc.  44. 

ALOES,  bitterness;  Comp.  273. 

ALONG,  at  full  length;  Ven.  43. 

ANATOMIZ'D,  laid  open,  shown  dis- 
tinctly; Luc.  1450. 

ANGRY-CHAFING,  chafing  with  an- 
ger; Ven.  662. 

ANNEXIONS,  additions ;  Comp. 
208. 

ANTICS,  fantastic  shapes;  (Qq., 
"antiques") ;  Luc.  459. 

APPAID,  satisfied;  Luc.  914. 

ARDEA,  capital  of  the  Rutuli, 
twenty-four  miles  south  of 
Rome;  Luc.  1. 

ARRIVE,  reach;  Luc.  781. 

As,  that;  Luc.  1372. 

ASKANCE,  turn  aside;  Luc.  637. 

,  looking  sideways;  Ven.  342. 


ASPIRE,  ascend,  mount;  Ven.  150. 
ASSAY,  essay,  try;  Comp.  156. 
ASSAYS,  attempts;  Luc.  1720. 
ASTONISH'D,       astounded ;       Luc, 

1730. 
AY  ME  !,  ah  me ! ;  Ven.  833. 


BALK,    disregard,    neglect;    Luc. 

696. 
BAN,  curse;  Luc.  1460;  P.  P.  xix. 

20. 

BANE,  death,  ruin;  Ven.  372. 
BANNING,  cursing;  Ven.  326. 
BARE,  bareness;  Comp.  95. 
BARNS,  stores  up;  Luc.  859. 
BARRED,  debarred;  Ven.  784. 
BASE;   "to   bid   a  base,"   i.    e.   to 

challenge  to  a  race;  Ven.  303. 
BAT,  staif;  Comp.  64. 
BATE-BREEDING,    causing   quarrel ; 

Ven.  655. 
BATELESS,  not  to  be  blunted;  Luc. 

9. 
BATTERY,    onset,    assault;     Ven. 

426. 

BATTLE,  battalion;  Ven.  619. 
BAY;  "at  a  bay,"  i.  e.  "the  state 

of   the   chase,   when   the   game 

is    driven    to    extremity     and 

turns    against    the    pursuers"; 

Ven.  877. 
BEGUIL'D,  rendered  guileful;  Luc 

1544. 


213 


Glossary 


POEMS 


BELDAM,  grandmother;  Luc.  953. 
BEREAVES,   impairs,    spoils;    Ven. 

797. 

BESEEMS,  becomes;  Luc.  277. 
BEWRAYED,   betrayed,   discolored; 

P.  P.  xix.  54. 

BLASTS,  is  blasted;  Luc.  49. 
BLAZON'D,      interpreted ;      Comp. 

217. 

BLEND,  blended;  Comp.  215. 
BLOOD,  passion;  Comp.  162. 
BLOSSOMS,    flower    of    the    young 

nobility;  Comp.  235. 
BLUNT,  rude,  rough;  Luc.  1504. 
BOLL'N,  swollen;  Luc.  1417. 
BOND,    claim   given    by    a    bond, 

ownership;  Luc.  136. 
BOOTLESS,  profitless ;  •  Ven.  422. 
BOTTOM-GRASS,   grass   growing   in 

a  deep  valley;  Ven.  236. 
BRAVING,  challenging;  Luc.  40. 
BREATHING-WHILE,          breathing 

time;  Ven.   1142. 
BULK,  chest;  Luc.  467. 
BURDEN-WISE,   as   in   the  burden 

of  a  song;  Luc.  1133. 
BUT,  except;  Ph.  32. 

CABINET,  nest;  Ven.  854. 
CAN,  knows;  Ph.  14. 
CANKER,  canker  worm;  Ven.  656. 
CARELESS;      "careless      hand      of 

pride,"  i.  e.  hand  of  careless 

pride;  Comp.  30. 
CASE,  dress;  Comp.  116. 
CANTELS,  deceits;  Comp.  303. 
CENSURE,  judge,  estimate;  Dedic. 
CHAMPAIGN,  open  country;  Luc. 

1247. 
CHAPS,      wrinkles       (early      Qs, 

"chops");  Luc.  1452. 
CHARACTERS,  figures;  Comp.  16. 
CHARGE,  blame;  P.  P.  xv.  2. 
CHEER,  face,  look;  Luc.  264. 
CHERUBIN,  cherub;  Comp.  319. 
CIPHER,  decipher;  Luc.  811. 


CIRCUMSTANCES,  elaborate  details; 

Ven.  844. 

CIVIL,  decorous;  Comp.  208. 
CLEANLY,  entirely;  Ven.  694. 
CLEFT,   double,   two-fold;    Comp. 

203. 

CLEPES,  calls;  Ven.  995. 
CLIP,  embrace;  Ven.  600. 
CLOSURE,  enclosure;  Ven.  782. 
COASTETH  TO,  makes  toward;  Ven. 

870. 

COAT,  coat-of-arms ;  Luc.  205. 
COCKATRICE,  basilisk;  Luc.  540. 
COLD;    "cold    fault,"    cold    scent, 

loss  of  scent;  Ven.  694. 
COLOR,  pretext;  Luc.  267. 
COMBUSTIOUS,  combustible ;  Ven. 

1162. 
COMFORTABLE,    comforting ;    Luc. 

164. 

COMMENDS,  commits;  Luc.  436. 
COMMISSION,    warrant    by    which 

power  is  exercised;  Ven.  568. 
COMPACT,  composed;  Ven.  149. 
COMPARE,  comparison;  Luc.  40. 
COMPASSED,  arched,  round;  Ven. 

272. 

COMPLAIN'D,  bewailed;  Luc.  1839. 
CONCEIT,    conception;    Luc.    701, 

1298. 

,  understanding;  P.  P.  iv.  9. 

CONCEITED,      imaginative ;      Luc. 

1371. 
CONCLUSION,     experiment ;     Luc. 

1160. 
CONDUCT,  that  which  guides ;  Luc. 

313. 

CONFOUND,  ruin;  Luc.  1202. 
CONGEST,   gather  in  one;    Comp. 

258. 

CONIES,  rabbits;  Ven.  687. 
CONTEMN,     contemptuously     re- 
fuse; Ven.  205. 
CONTRIVES,  devises   (wears  away, 

spends)  ;  Comp.  243. 
CONTROLLED,  restrained;  Luc.  448. 


214 


POEMS 


Glossary 


CONVERTITE,     convert,     penitent ; 

Luc.  743. 
COP'D,    encountered,    met;    Luc. 

99. 
COPE,  encounter,  fight  with;  Ven. 

888. 

COPESMATE,  companion;  Luc.  925. 
COUCHETH,  causes  to  cower;  Luc. 

507. 

COURAGE,  temperament;  Ven.  276. 
COUNTERFEIT,  image;  Luc.  1269. 
COY,  contemptuous;  Ven.  112. 
CRANKS,  twists;  Ven.  682. 
CREDENT,   credulous;   Comp.   279. 
CREST-WOUNDING,      staining      the 

family  crest;  Luc.  828. 
CRIES,  cries  for;  Comp.  42. 
CROSS,  thwart,  hinder;  Ven.  734. 
CURIOUS,  careful;  Comp.  49. 

— ,  elaborate;  Ven.  734. 
CURST,  fierce;  Ven.  887. 
CURVETS,  bounds;  Ven.  279. 
CYTHEREA,    Venus;   P.    P.   iv.   i; 

vi.  3. 


DAFF'D,    doffed,   put   off;    Comp. 

297. 

— ,  put  me  off;  P.  P.  xiv.  3. 
DANGER,    perilous    power;    Ven. 

639. 
DASH,    mark    of    infamy;    Luc. 

206. 
DEAL;  "no  deal,"  no  whit;  P.  P. 

xviii.  27. 
DEATHSMAN,     executioner ;     Luc. 

1001. 
DEFEATURE,    disfigurement ;    Ven. 

736. 

DEFUN.CTIVE,  funereal;  Ph.  14. 
DEFY,  despise;  P.  P.  xii.  11. 
DEPRIVE,  take  away;  Luc.  1186. 
DESCANT,  comment;  P.  P.  xiv.  4. 
DESCANT'ST,  singest;  Luc.  1134. 
DEVICE,   manner,    cast   of   mind; 

Ven.  789. 


DEW-BEDABBLED,     sprinkled    with 

dew;  Ven.  703. 

DIAPASON,     deep     notes     harmo- 
niously     accompanying      high 

ones;  Luc.  1132. 
DIGRESSION,    transgression ;    Luc. 

202. 
DISJOIN'D,    drew    asunder;    Ven. 

541. 
DISMOUNT,    lower    ("alluding    to 

the      old      English      fire-arms, 

which  were  supported  on  what 

was   called   a   rest,"    Malone) ; 

Comp.  281. 
DISPENSE     WITH,     excuse;     Luc. 

1070. 

DISSEN.TIOUS,  seditious;  Ven.  657. 
DISTEMPERING,   perturbing;    Ven. 

653. 

DISTRACT,   disjoined;    Comp.   231. 
DIVE-DAPPER,  didapper,  dabcheck; 

Ven.  86. 
DONE,  ended;  Luc.  23. 

— ,  past,  last;  Comp.  11. 
DOUBLES,  turns  to  escape  pursuit; 

Ven.  682. 
DUMPS,  mournful  lays;  Luc.  1127. 

EARE,  plow;  Dedic.  of  Ven. 
EBON,  black;  Ven.  948. 
ECSTASY,   excitement;   Comp.   69; 

Ven.  895. 
EFFECTS,  outward  manifestations 

(?  efficacies) ;  Luc.  1555. 
ELEMENT,  sky;  Luc.  1588. 
EMBRACEMENTS,  embraces;  Ven. 

312. 
ENPATRON,    "enpatron    me,"    are 

my  patron  saint;  Comp.  224. 
ENSUE,  follow;  Luc.  502. 
ENVIOUS,  spiteful;  Ven.  705. 
EXCLAIMING  ON,  cry  out  against; 

Ven.  930;  Luc.  741. 
EXTINCTURE,    extinction ;     Comp. 

294. 
EYNE,  eyes;  Ven.  633. 


215 


Glossary 


POEMS 


FACT,    deed     (perhaps    criminal 

deed) ;  Luc.  349. 
FAIR,  beauty;  Ven.  1083. 
FALLS,  lets  fall;  Luc.  1551. 
FANCY,    love;    Luc.    200;    P.    P. 

xix.  4. 
FAULT,  a  defect  in  the  scent  of 

the  game;  Ven.  694. 
FAVOR,  beauty;  Ven.  747. 
FEAR,    the    object    of    his    fear; 

Luc.  308. 

,  frighten;  Ven.  1094. 

FEAST-FINDING,     attending     ban- 
quets; Luc.  817. 
FEAT,  featly,  dexterously;  Comp. 

48. 

FENCE,  defend;  Luc.  63. 
FIELD,     (perhaps    with     a     play 

upon    its    heraldic    use) ;    Luc. 

72. 
FIERY-POINTED,    "throwing    darts 

with  points  of  fire";  (Steevens, 

" fir e-y -pointed")  ;  Luc.  372. 
FIGURED,   indicated  by  signs;   P. 

P.  iv.  10. 
FILED,  "f.  talk,"  polished  speech; 

P.  P.  xix.  8. 
FINE,  bring  to  an  end,  (?)  refine, 

soften;  Luc.  936. 
FLAP-MOUTHED,      having      broad 

hanging  lips;  Ven.  920. 
FLAWS,     gusts     of     wind;     Ven. 

456. 
FLUXIVE,  flowing,  weeping;  Comp. 

50. 
FOIL,  setting,  background;  Comp. 

153. 

FOLLY,  wantonness;  Luc.  851. 
FOND,     foolishly     fond,     foolish; 

Luc.  134;  Ven.  1021. 
FONDLY,  foolishly;  Luc.  207. 
FONDLING,  darling;  Ven.  220. 
FORCE,  "of   f.,"  perforce;   Comp. 

223. 
FORCE  NOT,  regard  not,  care  not 

for;  Luc.  1021. 


FORSOOK,       renounced,       proved 

faithless  to;  Ven.  161. 
FORESTALL,  prevent;  Luc.  728. 
FOR  WHY,  because;  Luc.  1222;  P. 

P.  x.  8;  xv.  12. 
FOUL,  ugly;  Ven.  133. 
FRET,  chafe;  Ven.  621. 
FRETS,   the  stops   that   regulated 

the  vibration  of  the  strings  in 

musical  instruments;  Luc.  1140. 

,  corrodes;  Ven.  767. 

FROM,  "fr.  the  way,"  i.  e.  "out  of 

the  way";  Luc.  1144. 
FULFILL'D,  filled  full;  Luc.  1258. 

GAGE,  stake;  Luc.  144. 

GAZE,  "at  g.,"  staring  about ;  Luc. 

1149. 

GENTRY,  gentle  birth;  Luc.  569. 
GOETH    ABOUT,    makes    attempts; 

Ven.  319. 
GOVERNMENT,    self-control ;    Luc. 

1400. 

GRAFF,  graft;  Luc.  1062. 
GRAINED,  of  rough  wood;  Comp. 

64. 

GRAVE,  engrave;  Luc.  755. 
• ,  wound  slightly  (with  a  play 

upon  "engrave");  Ven.  376. 
GRAY,   bluish-gray,   "blue";   Ven. 

140. 
GRIPE'S,  griffins;  Luc.  543. 

HARD-FAVOR'D,   ill-featured;    Ven. 

133. 
HAVINGS,        accomplishments ; 

Comp.  235. 
HEARTLESS,  bereft  of  all  courage; 

Luc.  471. 
HEAVY,     troublesome,     annoying 

(with  a  quibble  on  the  literai 

meaning) ;  Ven.  156. 
HELPLESS,    unavailing,    unprofita- 
ble; Luc.  1027;  Ven.  604. 
HILD,  held    (rhyming  with  "ful- 

fill'd");  Luc.  1257. 


POEMS 


Glossary 


His,  its;  Luc.  303;  Yen.  359. 
HIVE,  a  kind  of  bonnet,   resem- 
bling a  hive;  Comp.  8. 

ILL,  wickedness;  Luc.  304. 
IMAGINARY,      imaginative;      Luc. 

1422. 

IMMURE,  shut  in;  Ven.  1194. 
IMMUR'D,  shut  up   in  a   cloister; 

(Q.     "enure"     rhyming     with 

"procure")  ;  Comp.  251. 
IMPERIOUS,  imperial;  Ven.  996. 
IMPLEACH'D,      entwined ;      Comp. 

205. 
IMPOSTHUMES,     abscesses;    •  Ven. 

743. 

INDENTING,  zigzagging;  Ven.  704. 
INFUSING,  inspiring;  Ven.  928. 
IN  HAND  WITH,  taking  in  hand; 

Ven.  912. 
INSINUATE,    try    to    make    favor 

with;  Ven.  1012. 
INSTANCE,  "guilty  i."  i.  e.  "token 

of  guilt";  Luc.  1511. 
INSULTER,  victor;  Ven.  550. 
INTENDING,  pretending;  Luc.  121. 
INTENDMENTS,    intentions ;     Ven. 

222. 
INTITULED,  having  a  claim;  Luc. 

57. 

INTRUDE,  invade,  enter;  Luc.  848. 
INVENTION,    imagination,    imagi- 
native faculty;  Dedic.  Ven. 
INVIS'D,    invisible     (?    inspected, 

tried) ;  Comp.  212. 

JAR,  quarrel;  Ven.  100. 
JEALOUS,  "j.  of  catching,"   fear- 
ing to  be  caught;  Ven.  321. 
JENNET,  young  mare;  Ven.  260. 

KEN,  sight;  Luc.  1114. 

KILL,   KILL!   the   old   battle-cry; 

Ven.  652. 

KIND,  natural;  Luc.  1423. 
KINDS,  matures;  Luc.  1242. 


LATE,  lately;  Luc.  1801. 
LAUNDERING,  wetting;  Comp.  17. 
LAWN,  fine  linen;  Luc.  258. 
LAWND,  lawn;  Ven.  813. 
LEAVE,  license;  Ven.  568. 
LECTURES,  lessons;   Luc.   618. 
LEISURES,    leisure    hours;    Comp. 

193. 
LET,  forbear;  Luc.  10. 

— ,  hinder;  Luc.  328. 
LEVEL'D,  (technical  term  for  aim- 
ing a  gun)  ;  Comp.  22. 
LIMED,    ensnared    by    bird-lime; 

Luc.  88. 

LINEN,  kerchief;  Luc.  680. 
LISTETH,  desires;  Ven.  564. 
LIVELIHOOD,  animation,  spirit; 

Ven.  26. 
LURE,  the  call  or  whistle  by  which 

the  falconer  attracts  the  hawk; 

Ven.  1027. 

LUST,  pleasure;  Luc.  1384. 
LUST-BREATHED,  animated  by 

lust;  Luc.  3. 
LUXURY,  lust;  Comp.  314. 

MANAGE,   train,    break   in;    Ven. 

598. 
MANE,    (used    as    plural) ;    Ven. 

272. 

MAP,  picture,  image;  Luc.  402. 
MARGENTS,  margins;  Luc.  102. 
MARR'D,  had  injuriously  caused; 

Ven.  478. 

MATCH,  compact;  Ven.  586. 
MATED,  bewildered;  Ven.  909. 
MAUND,  hand  basket;  Comp.  36. 
MEASURES,  dances;  Ven.  1148. 
MERMAID,   siren;   Ven.   429;   Luc. 

1411. 

Miss,  misdoing;  Ven.  53. 
MISTRUSTFUL,   producing   distrust 

or  fear;  Ven.  826. 
MOE,  more;  Luc.  1479. 
MOITY,  portion;  Dedic.  to  Luc. 
MORALIZE,  interpret;  Luc.  104. 


217 


Glossary 


POEMS 


MORE,  greater;  Ven.  78. 

MORTAL*  death-dealing;  Ven.  618, 
953. 

MORTALITY,  "life's  m.,"  i.  e.  "mor- 
tal, human  life";  Luc.  403. 

MOT,  motto;  Luc.  830. 

MUSING,  wondering;  Ven.  866. 

MUSITS,  tracks  through  a  hedge; 
Ven.  683. 

NAPKIN,  handkerchief;  Comp.  15. 
NEEDLE,  (monosyllabic) ;  Luc. 

319. 

NICE,  skillful;   Luc.   1412. 
NIGHT- WAKING,  awake  at  night; 

Luc.  554. 

NILL,  will  not;  P.  P.  xiv.  8. 
NOTE,  notoriety;  Comp.  233. 
NOUGHT,    "all    to   n.,"   good    for 

nothing;  Ven.  993. 
NOUGHT    TO    DO,    nothing    to    do 

with;  Luc.  1092. 
NUZZLING,  thrusting  the  nose  in; 

(Qq.  "nousling") ;  Ven.  1115. 

O'ERSTRAW'D,     o'erstrewed;     Ven. 

1143. 
Ox,  "on  ringing,"  i.  e.  "a-ring- 

ing";  Luc.  1494. 
ORCHARDS,  gardens;  Comp.  171. 
ORIENT,  bright-shining;  Ven.  981. 
ORTS,  scraps;  Luc.  985. 
OUTWARDS,      external      features ; 

Comp.  80. 

OVERSEE,  superintend;  Luc.  1205. 
OVERSEEN,  bewitched;  Luc.  1206. 
OWE,  own,  have;  Luc.  82;  Ven. 

411. 
OWED,  owned;  Luc.  1803. 

PACK,  begone;  P.  P.  xv.  17. 
PACK'D,  sent  packing;  P.  P.  xv.  9. 
PALE,  enclosure;  Ven.  230. 

— ,  paleness;  Ven.  589. 
PALED,  pale  (Q.,  "palyd")  ;  Comp. 

198. 


PALMERS',  pilgrims';  Luc.  791. 
PARLING,  speaking;  Luc.  100. 
PAPHOS,  a  town  in  Cyprus,  sacred 

to  Venus;  Ven.  1193. 
PASSENGER,  wayfarer;  Ven.  91. 
PASSIONS,  grieves;  Ven.  1059. 
PEACE,  "love's  arms  are  p.";   (so 

Q.  i.  e.  non-resistant,  accepting 

all       consequences ;       Malone, 

"proof,"  etc.);  Comp.  271. 
PEERS,    lets    peer,    shows;    Luc. 

472. 

PELLETED,  rounded;  Comp.  18. 
PELT,    throw   out    angry    words; 

Luc.  1418. 

PENSIV'D,  pensive;   Comp.  219. 
PERPLEX'D,  bewildered;  Luc.  733. 
PHILOMELA,   the   nightingale;    P. 

P.    xv.    5;     (Philomel);    Luc. 

1079. 
PH(ENJX,  matchless,  rare;  Comp. 

93. 
PHRASELESS,   baffling  description; 

Comp.  225. 

PINE,  starve;  Ven.  602. 
PITH,  strength,  force;  Ven.  26. 
PLAINING,      complaining;      Luc. 

559. 

PLAITS,  folds;  Luc.  93. 
PLAUSIBILITY,      willingly;      Luc. 

1854. 

POINT'ST,  appointest;  Luc.  879. 
POSIED,     inscribed     with     posies; 

Comp.  45. 
PRECEDENT,  example;  Luc.   1261. 
,    indication;     (Qq.,    "presi- 
dent";    Malone,    "precedent"); 

Ven.  26. 

PRESENT,  instant;  Luc.  1263. 
PRETENDED,  intended;  Luc.  576. 
PRICK,  dial-point;   Luc.   781. 
PRIME,  spring;  Luc.  331. 
PRONE,  headlong;  Luc.  684. 
PROOF,  experience;   Comp.   163. 

,  defensive  armor;  Ven.  696. 

PROPERTY,  individuality;  Ph.  37. 


218 


POEMS 

PROPORTIONAL,  regular;  orderly; 
Luc.  774. 

PROVE,  experience;  Ven.  597. 

PROVED,  tested ;  Ven.  608. 

PURIFIED,  purged,  rendered  harm- 
less; Luc.  532. 

PURLED,  curled;   Luc.   1407. 

QUALIFIED,  softened,  abated;  Luc. 

424. 

QUESTIONED,  conversed;  Luc.  122. 
QUITTAL,  requital;  Luc.  236. 
QUOTE,  observe;  Luc.  812. 

RANK,  excessive,  over-full;  Ven. 

71.  A 

RATE,  chide;  Luc.  304. 
REAVES,  bereaves;  Ven.  766. 
RECEIPT,  what  has  been  received; 

Luc.  703. 
REGARD,     thought,     deliberation ; 

Luc.  1400. 

RELENTETH,  softens;  Ven.  200. 
RELISH,    serve    up    as    a    relish; 

Luc.  1126. 
REMEMBER'D,  "be  r.,"  remember; 

Luc.  607. 

REMORSE,  mercy;  Ven.  257. 
REMORSELESS,   pitiless;    Luc.   562. 
RENTS,  rends;  Comp.  55. 
REPEAL,  recall;  Luc.  640. 
REPINE,  repining,  sadness;   Ven. 

490. 
REPLICATION,     repartee;      Comp. 

122. 
REQUIRING,    asking;    Argum.    to 

Luc. 
RESPECT,    prudent    consideration; 

Luc.  275. 

RESPECTING,  seeing;  Ven.  911. 
RESPECTS,     considerations ;     Ven. 

911. 

RETIRES,  draws  back;  Luc.  303. 
RETIRING,  returning;  Luc.  962. 
RIGOL,  circle;  Luc.  1745. 
ROOT,  uproot;  Ven.  636. 


Glossary 

ROUND,  "to  r.  me  on  th'  ear,"   ? 

"to  strike  me  on  the  ear"    (? 

"i*   the  ear"-,  i.   e.  to  whisper 

in  my  ear) ;  P.  P.  xix.  51. 
RUFFLE,    noise,    brawls;     Comp. 

58. 

SAW,  maxim;  Luc.  244. 
SAWN,  sown;  Comp.  91. 
SCAPES,   transgression;   Luc.   747. 
SEATED,  situated;  Luc.  1144. 
SECURELY,    unsuspiciously ;    Luc, 

89. 

SEEKS  TO,  applies  to;  Luc.  293. 
SEEMING,  "s.   owed,"   i.   e.   which 

he   seemed   to   possess;    Comp. 

327. 

SELD,  seldom;  P.  P.  xiii.  7. 
SENSELESS,  i.   e.   "not  sensible  of 

the  wrong  done  it";  Luc.  820. 
SENSIBLE,  endowed  with   feeling; 

Ven.  436. 

SERVILE  TO,  subject  to;  Ven.  112, 
SET,  seated;  Ven.  18. 
SEVERE,  merciless;  Ven.   1000. 
SHAG,  shaggy;  Ven.  295. 
SHAMES,  is  ashamed;  Luc.   1084. 
SHAMING,    being   ashamed;    Luc. 

1143. 

SHEAVED,  straw;  Comp.  31. 
SHIFT,  trickery;  Luc.  920. 
SHIFTING,     (?)     cozening;     Luc. 

930. 

SHINE,  brightness;   Ven.   728. 
SHORT,  shorten;  P.  P.  xv.  18. 
SHREWD,  mischievous,   evil;   Ven. 

500. 

SIGHTLESS,  blind,  dark ;  Luc.  1013. 
SILLY,  simple;  Ven.  467. 
,    innocent,    harmless;    Ven. 

1098;  Luc.  167. 
SIMOIS,  the  river  so  often  referred 

to  by  Homer;  Luc.  1437. 
SITH,  since;  Ven.  762. 
SLANDEROUS,     disgraceful ;     Luc. 

1001. 


219 


Glossary 

SLEIDED,   untwisted;  Comp.  48. 
SLIPS,    used    quibblingly    for    (i) 

blunders,  (ii)  counterfeit  coins 

so  named;  Ven.  515. 
SMELL,  scent;   Ven.  686. 
SMOOTHING,  flattering;  Luc.  892. 
SNEAPED,     nipped,      frost-bitten ; 

Luc.  333. 

SORT,  sort  out,  select;  Luc.  899. 
SORTETH,  associates;  Ven.  689. 
SORTS,  adapts;  Luc.  1221. 
SPLEEN,  heat;  P.  P.  vi.  6. 
SPLEENS,       passionate       humors ; 

Ven.  907. 
SPRIGHT,  spirit;   (Qq.,  "sprite"); 

Ven.  181. 
SPRING,     shoot,     blossom;     Ven. 

656. 

SPRINGS,  young  shoots;  Luc.  950. 
SPRINGING,  blooming;  Ven.  417. 
STAIN,  "st.  to  all  nymphs,"  i.  e. 

eclipsing   all  nymphs;   causing 

them  to  appear  sullied  by  con- 
trast; Ven.  9. 
STALL'D,  got  as  in  a  stall,  fixed; 

P.  P.  xix.  5. 
STEEP-UP,  high,  precipitous ;  P.  P. 

ix.  5. 

STELL'D,  placed,  fixed;  Luc.  1444. 
STICK,  hesitate;  P.  P.  xix.  51. 
STILLITORY,  still;  Ven.  443. 
STILL-PINING,  ever-longing;   Luc. 

858. 
STILL-SLAUGHTER'D,      ever      killed 

but  never  dying;  Luc.  188. 
STOLE,  robe;  Comp.  297. 
STOPS,   (alluding  to  the  stops  in 

a    musical    instrument) ;    Luc. 

1124. 

STRANGE,  foreign;  Luc.  1242. 
STRANGENESS,  distant  manner,  re- 
serve; Ven.  310. 
STRICT,  tight,  close;  Ven.  874. 
SUFFER,  permit;  Luc.  1832. 
SUGGESTED,  incited;  Luc.  37. 


POEMS 

SUPPOSED,   imagined    (by   them) 

Luc.  377. 

SURCEASE,  cease;  Luc.   1766. 
SURMISE,  reflection,  thought;  Luc 

83. 

SUSPECT,  suspicion;  Ven.   1010. 
SWIFTEST,  "the  s.  hour,"  the  prime 

of  life;  Comp.  60. 
SWOUNDS,  swoons;  Luc.  1486. 

TALENTS,   lockets   made    of   hair. 

plaited  and  set  in  gold;  Comp 

204. 
TEEX,,  pain;   Comp.  192. 

— ,  vexation;  Ven.  808. 
TEMPERANCE,  chastity;  Luc.  884. 
TENDER,  favor;  Luc.  534. 
TERMLESS,    indescribable;    Comp. 

94. 

TESTY,  irritated;  Ven.  319. 
THAN,   (rhyming  with  "began")) 

then;  Luc.  1440. 
THAT,  so  that;  Luc.  177. 
THICK,  fast;  Luc.  1784. 
THICK-SIGHTED,         short-sighted; 

Ven.  136. 
THINK     (?)  =  methinks;    Comp. 

91. 

,  expect;  P.  P.  xix.  43. 

THOROUGH,  through,  throughout; 

Luc.  1851. 
THRENE,  threnody,  funeral  song; 

Ph.  49. 

TIMELY,  early;  P.  P.  x.  3. 
TIRED,       (?)       attired       (Collier, 

"tired,"    i.    e.    attired);    Ven. 

177. 

TIRES,  feeds  ravenously;  Ven.  56. 
TITAN,  the  Sun-god;  Ven.  177. 
To,  in  addition  to;  Luc.  1589. 
TOWARD,    docile,   tractable;    Ven. 

1157. 
TOWERING,    flying   high    (a   term 

of   falconry);   Luc.  506. 
TOYS,  whims;  P.  P.  xix.  39. 
TREATISE,  discourse;  Ven.  774. 


220 


POEMS 


Glossary 


TREBLE-DATED,    living    thrice    as 

long  as  man;  Ph.  17. 
TRENCH'D,   gashed;   Ven.    1052. 
TRUMPET,  trumpeter;  Ph.  3. 
TURN,    "this     good    turn,"    kind 

action,  (with  perhaps  a  quibble 

on    the   previous   turns) ;    Ven. 

92. 
TUSHES,  tusks;  Ven.  617. 


UNADVISED,      inadvertent ;      Luc. 

1488. 
UNAPPROVED,    not    approved,   not 

proved  true;  Comp.  53. 
UNCOUTH,  strange;  Luc.  1598. 
UNCOUPLE,  set  loose  the  hounds; 

Ven.  673. 
UNHAPPY,      mischievous,      fatal; 

Luc.  1585. 

UNKIND,  childless;  Ven.  204. 
UNRECALLING,  not  to  be  recalled; 

Luc.  993. 

UNTREADS,  retraces;  Ven.   908. 
UP-TILL,  against,  on;   P.  P.  xxi. 

10. 
URCHIN-SNOUTED,  snouted  like  a 

hedgehog;  Ven.  1105. 
USE,  interest;  Ven.  768 


VADED,  faded;  P.  P.  x.  1. 
VADETH,  fadeth;  P.  P.  xiii.  2. 
VAILS,  lower;  Ven.  314. 
VASTLY,  take  a  waste;  Luc.  1740. 
VENTURE,    (pronounced  "venter" 

rhyming    with    "enter") ;    Ven. 

628. 

VlLIA        MlRETUR        VULGUS,        etc. 

Ovid's  Amores,  bk.  1.  El.  xv. 
11.  35,  36: — "Let  base  conceited 
wits  admire  vile  things,  Fair 
Phoebus  leads  me  to  the 
Muses'  springs"  ( ?  Marlowe's 
Version,  pub.  circa  1598;  cp. 


Ben    Jonson's    Poetaster,    Act 
I.)     Motto  to  V.  and  A. 

VILLAIN,  countryman;  Luc.  1338. 

VULTURE,  ravenous;   Ven.  551. 

WANT,  "to  w.,"  i.  e.  "at  missing; 
Luc.  389. 

WARD,  bolt;  Luc.  303. 

WAT,  familiar  name  for  a  hare; 
Ven.  697. 

WATCH,  "w.  of  woes,"  i.  e.  "di- 
vided and  marked  only  by 
woes";  Luc.  928. 

,  keep  awake;  Ven.  584. 

,  watchman;  P.  P.  xv.  2. 

WATER-GALLS,  secondary  rain- 
bows; Luc.  1588. 

WEAR,  wear  out;  Ven.  506. 

WEED,  garment;  Luc.   196. 

WELL-BREATHED,  well  exercised, 
in  good  training;  Ven.  678. 

WHEN  AS,  when;  Ven.  999. 

WHERE,  whereas;  Luc.  792. 

WHETHER,  "they  know  not  w.," 
i.  e.  which  of  the  two;  Ven. 
304. 

WINKING,  shutting  the  eyes;  Luc. 
458. 

WINKS,  closes  the  eyes;  Ven.  90. 

,  shuts  the  eyes,  slumbers; 

Luc.  553. 

WIPE,  brand;  Luc.  537. 

WISTLY,  wistfully;  Luc.  1355; 
Ven.  343. 

WITHHOLD,  restrain;  Ven.  612. 

WOOD,  mad;  Ven.  740. 

WOODMAN,  huntsman;  Luc.  580. 

WORM,  serpent;  Ven.  933. 

WOT,  "God  w.,"  i.  e.  "God 
knows";  Luc.  1345. 

WRACK,  ruin;  Ven.  558. 

WRAPP'D,  involved;  Luc.  456. 

WREAKED,  revenged ;  Ven.  1004. 

WRITON,  writ  about,  (?)  pre- 
dicted; Ven.  506. 


STUDY  QUESTIONS 

i 

By  ANNE  THROOP  CRAIG 

VENUS    AND    ADONIS 

1.  When  was  Venus  and  Adonis  first  printed? 

2.  What  attests  its  popularity? 

3.  To  whom  was  the  poem  inscribed?     Give  some  facts 
in  the  life  of  this  dedicatee. 

4.  Name  some   other  small   "classical  epics"  to   which 
Venus  and  Adonis  is  akin.     To  what  one  especially  does 
Shakespeare  seem  to  have  been  indebted  for  much  of  its 
characteristic  tone? 

5.  Is  there  reason  to  suppose  that  the  Poet  first  projected 
a  sonnet  sequence  to  convey  this  subject? 

6.  Cite  some  of  the  early  contemporaneous  references  to 
this  poem. 

7.  What  was  probably  the  direct  source  of  Shakespeare's 
plot  for  this  poem? 

8.  Mention  an  imitation  of  the  poem.     What  was  its  au- 
thor's excuse  for  it?  what  was  its  fate? 

9.  What   other  poem   on  this   theme  was   published  in 
England's  Helicon? 

10.  What  do  folk-lorists  find  in  the  poem?     Cite  forms 
of  the  myth  from  which  it  is  derived,  and  the  various  names 
of  the  beings  in  it. 

11.  How  is  the  Eastern  origin  of  the  myth  preserved? 

12.  What  is  the  story  carried  in  the  poem? 

13.  What  is  the  nature  of  the  stanza  employed? 

14.  With  what  one  of  the  plays  has  this  poem  marked 
connecting  links? 

15.  Cite  passages  of  especial  beauty  of  imagery.     Of 
felicity  in  description  of  outdoor  sights  and  incidents. 

222 


POEMS  Study  Questions 

THE    PASSIONATE    PILGRIM 

16.  When  was  The  Passionate  Pilgrim  first  printed? 

17.  What    other    editions    followed?     What    additions 
were  made  in  these? 

18.  Were  the  additions  Shakespearean? 

19.  What  were  the  publisher's  probable  reasons  for  issu- 
ing such  a  miscellaneous  collection  of  pirated  matter  dur- 
ing Shakespeare's  time? 

20.  As  the  collection  comes  down  to  us,  is  Shakespeare 
the  sole  author  of  its  contents  ? 

21.  What  criticisms  are  made  upon  its  contents? 

22.  Cite  the  poems  undoubtedly  Shakespearean,  and  give 
the  supposed  or  known  authors  of  the  others. 

23.  What  is  said  of  the  poet  Barnfield? 

24.  Compare  the  quality  and  the  technic  of  the  various 
poems  in  the  collection. 

THE    RAPE    OF    L.UCRECE 

25.  To  whom  is  this  poem  dedicated? 

26.  What  is  the  substance  of  the  dedication  ? 

27.  Compare  this  Dedication  with  the  tone  of  that  intro- 
ducing  Venus  and  Adonis.     What  does   it   show   of  the 
growth  of  the  attachment  between   Shakespeare  and  his 
dedicatee  ? 

28.  When  was  the  first  edition  of  the  poem  published? 

29.  How  many  editions  did  it  have  between  that  and 
1655? 

30.  What  is  the  source  of  its  plot? 

31.  What  is  the  argument  of  the  poem? 

32.  Cite  points  of  its  advance  in  maturity  of  style  over 
the  Venus  and  Adonis. 

33.  Indicate  the  dramatic  points  in  the  development  of 
the  poem.     Describe  their  technical  handling. 

34.  What  form  of  stanza  is  employed? 

35.  To  what  order  of  poetry  does  the  poem  belong? 


223 


Study  Questions  POEMS 


36.  When  was  this  poem  first  printed,  and  in  connection 
with  what  other  writings  of  the  Poet  ? 

37.  To  what  period  of  the  Poet's  work  does  it  probably 
belong? 

38.  To  what  other  great  poet's  writing  does  the  general 
style  of  this  poem  give  it  kinship?     What  are  the  special 
points  that  produce  this  impression? 

39.  Through  this  likeness,  to  what  other  earlier  poet's 
writing  does  it  also  link  itself? 

40.  What  is  the  story  it  conveys? 

41.  What  is  the  form  of  its  stanza? 

42.  To  what  order  of  poetic  presentation  does  it  be- 
long? 

THE    PHffiNIX    AND    THE    TURTLE 

43.  Under  what  title  did  this  poem  first  appear,  and 
when? 

44.  To  whom  was  the  collection  of  poems  in  which  this 
appeared  inscribed? 

45.  Has  the  allegory  carried  in  this  idea  of  The  Phoenix 
and  the  Turtle  ever  been  elucidated? 

46.  What  have  been  suggestions  with  regard  to  it? 

47.  What  are  its  forms  of  stanza? 


224 


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